False Starts
by FantasyFiend09
Summary: Dutiful and intense Nate is frustrated with Anders' hedonistic ways. Nate refuses to be a fling, but doubts whether Anders is capable of anything more.   Sexual content-mainly m/m  1 m/f scene , violence & language.
1. Ch 1  Freedom

** Disclaimer: The setting, most of the characters, and some of the plot and dialogue are from the Dragon Age games. They are the property of Bioware.**

o o o o o o o o

Anders was enjoying his seventh successful escape attempt. He had been free for nine days, the longest he had ever elluded the Templars since he was taken from his parents at the tender age of twelve. He was almost getting used to privacy and fresh air.

"_Maybe they gave up. Maybe they decided I'm not worth the trouble_," he thought. And then he thought of Rylock. There was no way that bitch would give up. She would hunt him for the rest of her days just for the sheer joy of it.

For all of her talk about how worthless he was, she deemed him worthy of as much of her time as it took to keep him in captivity. He could still see the look of joy on her face when she had caught him last. She had only grown more pleased when Knight-Commander Greagoir agreed to a year of solitary confinement as Anders' punishment.

Anders had missed a lot during that year in solitary. It figured that after years of boredom, a blight and a blood mage rebellion would break out as soon as he was locked in the basement with no access to news. When he had finally been released back into the main part of the tower, he found it more dreary and repressed than when he had fled the year before.

The Fifth Blight had still been in full swing at that time, but no one made an effort to keep the mages informed. The Templars, however, could gossip like a knitting circle, and Anders learned to listen. He learned that the same Grey Warden who had crushed the blood mage rebellion had also ended the Blight. To top it all off, she had put her boyfriend on the throne and then announced their engagement. Anders figured it was only fair that she give herself a nice title after saving the whole nation from taint and despair.

The other mages were excited about King Alistair. They placed a lot of faith in the fact that, despite being a former Templar, he had kept a mage at court as an advisor. They seemed to think it was a guarantee of greater freedom and more rights in the near future. Anders was not impressed. No matter how the Circle Tower improved, it would always be a prison. He had promptly escaped again.

This time he planned to escape properly. If only he could destroy his phylactery and get out of Ferelden. It was this desperate goal that had him heading to Amaranthine. If a year of solitary was the punishment for the sixth escape attempt, he had no intention of discovering the punishment for a seventh.

He shuddered.

Anders shook his head to free himself from his thoughts. He would have enough time to think about the Templars when they caught him. "_If they catch me. IF." _For now he would enjoy his freedom, however long it lasted.

He had pawned a ring he had stolen from a Templar before he escaped, but his coin was running low. His body was as weak as his coin-purse. After nine days of running, his muscles were aching and sore. He wished he could take a straight path to Amaranthine, but he could not make his plans obvious to the Templars. It would be better to take longer and not get caught.

This evening, Anders was sitting in a slightly dingy tavern, eating supper and enjoying a new batch of gossiping patrons. He heard many people talking about a local soldier who had run off with a noble's daughter. A few patrons discussed a goat that was said to be possessed by a sloth demon.

He used a piece of bread to wipe the last of the gravy from his plate. As he chewed it, he stretched his back and leaned a bit to one side. He was straining to hear a woman at the next table.

"...doesn't seem right for a queen to be playing soldier. Never make an heir that way. Don't know why King Alistair didn't find a sweet quiet girl like my master's eldest."

"_Maybe he doesn't like them sweet and quiet_," Anders thought to himself. He had seen an announcement with a sketch of the new royal couple. If the picture was accurate, he would happily take either to bed. Or both. He savoured that thought for a moment, cursing his luck that both had been in the tower and he had not even known.

Bored with eavesdropping, Anders turned his attention to securing a place to sleep. He did not waste coin on inns. There were far more fun ways to spend the night.

"_What shall I have tonight_?"

He had already been flirted with by the barmaid. She had a nice face and was receptive, a definite possibility. He caught the eye of a handsome man with broad shoulders and muscular arms. "_Farmer? Lumberjack?_" The man smiled shyly before dropping his eyes. "_Interested._" Anders smiled. "_Any other contenders?"_

His eyes continued to scan the tavern, so he saw the Templars enter before they could see him. He slipped into the storage room behind his table and gently shut the door. In no time, he had climbed onto a barrel and slipped out the window into the woods behind the tavern. "_Oh well, tonight will be spent running instead of tumbling. Tomorrow I will have to find two to make up for this_." And with that thought he quietly sped through the thick wood.

o o o

He had been only a day's walk from Amaranthine when they finally caught him. He had fought as hard as he could, but with four of them using mana drain, he could not cast a single spell. His staff had bought him some time, but it was not enough to get away.

He cursed himself for having even hoped. So long as they had his phylactery, capture would always be inevitable. And now he was being carted back to the Circle Tower again.

He looked at the familiar faces of his captors. At least Garvey was not among them. He thanked Andraste again for that. Rylock and Biffon would be tempered by the presence of the other two. He would not be treated with respect, but it could have been much worse. He would probably get three meals and a stone floor to rest on, which was a lot better than what was waiting for him back in solitary confinement. He thought of Garvey again and shuddered. Biffon noticed and leered at him.

Anders had travelled a fair distance this time, and it would take a couple of days to return. They needed a place to rest and get food. The Templars decided to stop at a place called Vigil's Keep.

Vigil's Keep turned out to be a keep the Grey Wardens had filled with local guards and Orlesian Grey Wardens. One of the guards led them into a room with a cell. "_Oh goodie. Here I thought I'd have to wait for the Tower to be thrown behind bars._" Rylock left with the guard to secure supplies while the other three Templars settled in.

Biffon pulled Anders into the cell and knelt behind him. With the excuse of adjusting the mage's wrist bindings, he pressed up against him and groped his arse. "I can't wait to get you back to the tower, mage," he whispered in Anders' ear. "You've been gone too long."

Before Anders could respond, the door from the main part of the keep flew open and monsters rushed the room.

"Darkspawn!" one of the Templars screamed. All three Templars ran forward. Anders sat bewildered for a moment and then struggled to release the loosened bindings around his wrists. With his hands finally free, he surveyed the situation.

One Templar was already down, leaving four darkspawn, two Templars, and him. Anders took on two of the darkspawn, leaving two for the Templars. He found fire worked well and soon had two toasty darkspawn corpses at his feet. The Templars were still fighting their two.

"_Bloody useless_," he thought. One of the darkspawn lashed out at Biffon, catching him under his helm. He gurgled as he fell to the floor. "_Useless, and now dead,_" he amended.

The last Templar turned to flee and was struck down from behind. Anders finished the third darkspawn before the last was on him.

o o o o o o o o


	2. Ch 2 The Warden

o o o o o o o o o

Anders finally finished the fourth and final darkspawn with a fire blast.

"_No more Templars; no more darkspawn. Time to slip out the-"_

He turned around to find two armoured women standing between him and the door to freedom. They both wore surprised expressions.

"_Shit._" he thought, looking at the Templar corpses and then back at the women. "_This does not look good_."

"Uh...I didn't do it."

He rambled some more about not being upset they were dead, as he contemplated his chances of stunning the two woman and getting past them.

The woman in front, a rogue by her leathers, seemed to be in charge. She looked vaguely familiar, but he could not place her face. She stepped forward and surveyed the corpses behind him.

"I take it they were dear friends." She was smirking at him.

"Very dear. I plan to mourn their passing with a great deal of ale and dancing. That is, if I am not dragged back to the Circle Tower for more abuse and humiliation" He eyed the rogue, hoping for a hint as to her intentions toward him. Her face gave nothing away.

He introduced himself and watched the second woman, a warrior from her armour, baulk as he admitted to being an apostate. The rogue gave no reaction.

"I'm loving our little chat," the rogue said simply, "but maybe we can take a little break to slaughter some darkspawn first."

"Pretty and pragmatic," Anders purred at her. He offered to help the women, but also mentioned that they could simply let him go.

The rogue studied him and then the darkspawn corpses at his feet. "I could use your talents."

"Help it is." Anders said as he fell in step behind her. He was surprised at his own willingness to assist instead of run.

The warrior looked at him apprehensively. "Are you sure, Commander?"

"'_Commander,' huh? Maybe she can help me slip away when this is over. Assuming she wants to help and doesn't just hand me to the Templars herself..."_

The rogue laughed lightly. "Don't worry Mhairi. I'm no more afraid of apostates than I am of Templars."

"_And then again, maybe she will help me run."_

They moved into the next room, where they found a man being attacked by two darkspawn. Anders cast a healing spell on the terrified man before helping his new companions kill the darkspawn.

The survivor looked up once the fight was over and thanked them before running to safety. A feeling stirred in Anders' chest. He was pleased, maybe even proud. "_I just helped save a man's life!_"

Soon after, they found a woman who had hidden herself in a small room. "Your safe now," he said softly. "Thank the Maker," she replied, looking into his eyes with gratitude. Anders was not sure if anyone had ever looked so happy to see him.

"_Think what I could do if the Templars didn't have me rotting away in the Tower,_" he thought. "_Only by defying Andraste's Templars can I obey her instructions to use magic to serve man_." He laughed bitterly to himself.

In the heart of the keep, they found a dwarf with bright red hair and a very large axe fighting a group of darkspawn. The dwarf chopped one down, stopped to cheerfully wave, and then continued fighting. Once the darkspawn were all dead, he came over to chat. The sour smell of old ale followed.

Anders was surprised when the woman he was following greeted the dwarf as "Oghren." She even seemed happy to see him. The two of them talked about the Grey Wardens for a moment, confirming Anders' suspicion that he was not with common soldiers.

Mhairi definitely did not like the dwarf and Anders was inclined to agree with Mhairi. He was not pleased when the dwarf joined their little party and began teasing Mhairi and him.

"_Although...Maybe the dwarf has a purpose. I'll bet I look better to Mhairi in comparison_." He risked a subtle glance at "the rack" Oghren kept mentioning.

When they reached the roof of the keep, they found an older man on his knees with a sword to his throat. He was prisoner to two darkspawn. One of the darkspawn spoke, not something they were supposed to be able to do. It gave orders to spare the Warden-Commander but kill the others.

"_I think he's got his instructions a little turned around,"_ Anders mused. _"Or maybe no one told him that the life's work of a Grey Warden is to kill darkspawn."_

It did not matter; the darkspawn were soon dead.

There was no time to question the man they had saved as soldiers could be seen approaching the keep. "_Maybe they can take over the darkspawn killing so I can sneak away_," Anders thought hopefully. Their little party went down to meet the new arrivals.

As the soldiers came into view, Anders' heart sank. At the front of the group was a Templar, and it only got worse as she got closer. Anders realised the Templar was Rylock.

"_How in the Maker's name did she get troops in such a short time? Do the Templars even use soldiers?_"

It was only then that Anders noticed the man walking beside Rylock. He was handsome, young, blond, and well-built. Like the rogue Mhairi called "Commander," he looked vaguely familiar. His armour was elaborate, marking him as someone of importance.

The rogue and the man from the roof both dropped to one knee.

"It seems I missed the excitement," the blond man began, stepping in front of Rylock and the soldiers.

"King Alistair!" Mhairi exclaimed breathlessly before dropping to one knee as well.

"_So this is the new Fereldan King_" Anders thought, sizing him up. "_He's nice to look at all right...but for all the talk about him being sympathetic to mages, he's here with Rylock_."

King Alistair stepped closer to the rogue and gave her a pout. "You didn't even save me a genlock. You're too efficient, dear Wife."

"_Wife? Maker! She's THE Warden, the bloody Hero of Ferelden!" _Anders thought. "_I have been fighting alongside the Hero of Ferelden. Well at least I'll have a bloody good tale to tell when they drag me back to the Circle. Provided they ever let me out of solitary to tell it..._"

The rogue, "_the Hero of Ferelden_," Anders amended, smirked at her husband.

"I am sure there are more genlocks, my King," she said with teasing deference. "Care to join me as I look?"

"Oh, I wish! I'd much rather be fighting with you than visiting banns while Eamon whispers in my ear." He wiggled a finger in his ear, as if to remove lingering whispers. "I'm afraid the darkspawn killing is all yours." He looked genuinely disappointed.

"What am I chopped nug livers?" Oghren interrupted.

"From the smell, that's not a bad guess," Anders threw in. Rylock looked at him. "_Shit! Keep your mouth shut and stop drawing attention to yourself! Maybe she'll just...forget I'm here."_

"I came here to join the Grey Wardens," the dwarf continued "and from the looks of it, you could use the extra hands! Where's the giant cup? I'll gargle and spit!"

"We haven't forgotten you, Oghren. And you're not allowed to spit." The commander used a patient tone as if addressing a very young child.

Mhairi made some feeble comment about all being welcome in a dire time, but Anders suspected that Oghren was not her first choice in comrade.

"Joining the Wardens, hey?" Anders had spoken without thinking again and was rewarded with Rylock's approach.

"King Alistair! Your Majesty, beware!" Rylock was at the king's side. "This man is a dangerous criminal!"

King Alistair was still looking at Oghren. "Oh, the dwarf is a bit of an arse, but I wouldn't go that -"

Anders saw no point in dragging this out. "She means me," he said, lowering his head.

"This is an apostate who we were in the process of bring back to the Circle to face justice!"

"Oh, please." Anders shot back. "The things you people know about justice would fit in a thimble. I'll just escape again, anyhow."

"Never!" she spat. "I'll see you hanged for what you've done here, murderer!"

"Murderer?"

The bodies. Of course. She would have looked for the others and found them dead. And despite the darkspawn corpses beside them, she would see only one possible explanation for their deaths.

"But those Templars were – oh, what the use? You won't believe me anyhow."

This woman saw him as a blood mage and an abomination without reason. Murderer was a mild addition to the list. He could hear King Alistair talking, but he was no longer listening.

Then he heard the voice of the rogue he had been following. He focused just enough to hear "...conscript this man into the Grey Wardens."

"What? Never!" Rylock was shaking with anger.

"I believe the Grey Wardens still retain the Right of Conscription, no?" King Alistair sounded just a little smug and possibly...amused. "I will allow it." He added simply.

"If...if Your Majesty feels it is best..." Rylock managed before she turned heels.

Anders stood in a daze. One second Rylock was about to drag him off to the Circle Tower for execution and the next she was retreating with her tail between her legs. King Alistair himself had thwarted her!

"Me? A Grey Warden?," he stammered. " I guess that will work..." "_Anything that keeps me free of the Tower and its Templars, right?_"

The man from the roof finally introduced himself as Varel, Seneschal of Vigil's Keep. Despite what he had just survived, he seemed eager to press on with rebuilding the structure of Vigil's Keep and the ranks of the Grey Wardens. He said something about "the Joining," and Anders had a gut feeling it was something he would not like.

King Alistair pulled his wife aside and they spoke quietly. Anders hear him apologise for leaving her alone and commented that it would be "more _interesting"_ to keep her at court. She asked again if he would stay, but he said he needed to deal with the Bannorn. He promised to return when he could. He seemed reluctant to leave her, but desperate to do so before it became any harder. Then he kissed her...on the cheek of all places!

"_Come on!" _Anders thought, _"That is not how you kiss a woman like that!"_

His wife must have had a similar thought. She placed her hands aside her husband's face and pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss. When she finally released him, he stood staring at her and grinning like fool. It was several moments before he seemed to remember where he was or that an escort of a half dozen soldiers were standing nearby awaiting his command.

"Come visit when you can," she said longingly. "I know Eamon can be a taskmaster, but I don't remember putting _him_ on the throne."

"You have your duties, and I have mine. For now it seems they keep us apart." He sounded genuinely miserable. Anders had no doubt that a handsome king could easily find volunteers for his bed, so this was about something more.

Anders wondered what it would be like to care about someone that much. There was no one whose absence caused him such sadness, or any sadness really. The only people he knew were in the Circle Tower, and clearly they were not enough to keep him there. Then, before he could get caught eavesdropping on the royal couple, he slipped back into the keep.

o o o o o o o o o


	3. Ch 3 The Joining

o o o o o o o o o

Varel was very concerned that the Warden-Commander of Ferelden was actually Ferelden's _only_ active Grey Warden. He advocated proceeding with the Joining immediately. The Warden-Commander agreed. Anders was still hoping someone would explain what that even meant. He had horrible images of possible initiation rights going through his head.

He did not have to wait long. The five of them gathered together and Varel spoke some words. Anders mainly focused on the line about "should you perish." He tried to tell himself that dying here would at least deprive the Templars of the honour. It did little to calm his nerves.

Varel produced a large chalice and handed it to Oghren. The dwarf found reason to complain, but finally took a drink. When he wiped his mouth and belched, Varel and the Warden-Commander exchanged bewildered glances.

Varel handed the chalice to Anders next. "From this moment forward, Anders, you are a Grey Warden."

"_Great. I get the cup after the stinky dwarf used it._" Anders looked inside.

"So we need to drink darkspawn blood? That's it?"

"That is it. Yes," Varel replied.

"Well all right, but if I wake up two weeks from now on a ship bound for Rivain in nothing but my smallclothes and a tattoo on my forehead, I'm blaming you."

"It is no small task, Anders." He looked over at the woman who had saved him from Rylock. Her face was serious, maybe even a little...sad. The expression seemed to sober him and he stoically drank from the cup. When he returned the cup to Varel, he saw the waiting and concern in the other man's eyes.

Pain burned through his throat. The room grew fuzzy, and then he was pulled away into darkness.

There were visions...monstrous darkspawn...agony...and then, only black.

Anders twitched and blinked. A ceiling. He closed his eyes again and groaned. When he opened them again, blue eyes and a small smile were there.

"Commander?"

"Aleesa."

"What?"

"You are to call me Aleesa. You have taken the Joining. You are one of us now. You can call me fancy titles at fancy parties, but in private please call me Aleesa."

He sat up and looked around.

"Where are the others?"

"Oghren, I would wager, is somewhere getting drunk. Varel is... tending to Mhairi's body." She looked pained.

"I'm gathering that is not a euphemism for sex."

Her lip twitched up on one side, but her eyes were unchanged.

"She did not survive the Joining." She stood and sighed. "The taint kills us all, it's just a question of how quickly. Come, let us get you some food."

She led him into a kitchen and sat him at a table. She set out bread, butter, cheese, and smoked ham, and the sight of it all made him realise he was famished. He ate until his curiosity overpowered his hunger.

"Commander?" She cleared her throat at him. "Aleesa?"

She nodded.

"Why did you save me?"

"What, from the Templar?"

"Yes. A Templar Knight tells you I am a murderer and you invite me into your elite club. Not the usual response."

Aleesa laughed at that. "I try to avoid the expected move. Rogue and all." She was smirking at him, but her blue eyes were searching his dark amber ones.

"You are seriously puzzled, aren't you?" she asked. "Let me explain. When I came into the room, I saw you killing a darkspawn and the Templars were already dead. There is no way for me, for anyone, to know exactly how those men died.

"I can see three possible scenarios. The first, Rylock's version, you killed the Templars. The second, you and the Templars fought darkspawn together and only you survived. The third, you let the monsters kill your enemies before you killed the monsters.

"Only you know which is true. When facts fail me, I go with my gut. I am inclined to think that the second or third is true. Some might say failing to defend the Templars is as bad as killing them, but I am a nasty sort. I think that if Templars wish to spread their propaganda about magic being a curse, they have no right to expect its aid when attacked by darkspawn. They can't have it both ways."

Surprise prompted him to speak. "You don't think magic is a curse?"

"Ha! Magic has saved my life more times than I can count. If it's a curse, it's the best damn curse the Maker ever made." She fixed him with a hard look. "I am not naive. I know what magic can do. I was at the Circle Tower. I saw what Uldred did, what he became... But I also saw the massacre of Loghain's betrayal and the torture chambers of Rendon Howe. I know what Howe did to my family. Men don't need magic to murder and torture. And they don't need to play in the Fade to be consumed by greed or pride. Mages are dangerous, but so are we all."

She stopped and laughed at herself. "Enough of my preaching. All this to say, I won't condemn you to death just for being a mage near some corpses. And I won't stand by and let the Templars do it either. Besides, I am used to having a healer with me and my selfish husband is keeping Wynne at court."

Anders turned all of this over in his head. He was still deciding what to make of the woman who was now his commander. He had many questions, but one burned within him. Sitting across from the Hero of Ferelden, he wanted to confirm his favourite rumour.

"Is it true that you travelled with an apostate during the Blight?"

She laughed again. "Yes, and she makes you look like a good little Circle Mage in comparison."

Anders smiled. He was glad that part of the tales was true.

o o o o o o o o o


	4. Ch 4 The Prisoner

o o o o o o o o o

The Grey Wardens spent that night settling into their new home. Over supper, Aleesa explained to Anders the changes the taint in his blood would bring. Anders loved eating, had never imagined himself a family man, and had always assumed the Templars would kill him before he reached old age, so none of her announcements had much affect on him. In fact, he was pretty thrilled to hear that he now came with built-in birth control. He planned to take full advantage of that.

He was more worried about what duties and obligations being a Grey Warden would impose on him. He knew that it had been this or execution, but he was worried that Vigil's Keep would turn out to be the Tower of the Circle of Magi with a bailey instead of a lake. He would have to wait and see.

After supper, Varel gave a tour of the main parts of the keep, including the throne room, dining halls, kitchen, and baths. Aleesa used the opportunity to assign bedrooms. She declined the master bedroom, saying she refused to sleep in Rendon Howe's old room. Instead she offered it to Anders. "_Biggest room in the keep? Sure!"_

She found an excuse to assign Oghren to a room on the ground floor, away from the others. The dwarf seemed delighted, as it was closer to the ale. The Commander of the Grey chose a guest room at the end of a corridor for herself. "_Privacy over grandeur_," Anders thought. "_Me, I'll take grandeur_," and he headed back to his luxurious new room contemplating how best to break in the bed.

He stretched himself out on the massive canopy bed and thought about how to find a serving girl he had noticed during supper. Instead, he fell fast asleep fully dress on top of the blankets.

o o o

After breakfast, Aleesa gathered Oghren and Anders and took them into the bailey outside the keep. She spoke with surviving craftsmen and soldiers and started arranging for the defences of Vigil's Keep to be rebuilt and fortified.

She led the three of them to a blacksmith's stand. "Wade and Herren!" she called out with amusement. "What brings you to Vigil's Keep?" She talked with the two men and Anders shifted from foot to foot.

Was being a Grey Warden a lot of following their commander around and watching her talk? "_At least the food is good_," he reminded himself.

Then he thought about his new bed. He scanned the yard of the bailey and saw two soldiers sorting weapons collected from the fallen. One of the men was looking at him. Anders caught the man's eye and gave him a big smile. The soldier looked startled and went back to work.

A few moments later, the soldier looked over again. Anders had a smile ready for him. This exchange continued a few times, and each time the soldier held his gaze longer.

Anders heard Oghren grumbling about having to deal with those "whiners" again and realised that Aleesa had returned from the blacksmith.

"Yes, sensitive artists and their even more sensitive boyfriends," Aleesa chuckled. "But Wade is damn good at his craft and Herren keeps him alive to do it."

She led them to a building near the palisade that surrounded the bailey. On the way, Anders exchanged smiles with the soldier he was charming.

"The guard we met on the way in said that there is a prisoner being kept here." Aleesa had stopped them at the door. Anders had not paid attention to what that guard had said. He only remembered a pretty face and a bust that pushed up against her chainmail.

"Apparently, it took four Wardens to capture him." Aleesa gave a grin. "Any man it takes four Wardens to bring down is a man I want to meet."

Inside they found a cell and a single guard. Within the cell was a shadowed figure of a man. Aleesa spoke with the guard and then slipped into the cell.

"Wardens do a lot of standing around, huh?" Anders asked Oghren as the guard left the building.

"Yeah, but we do a lot of skull crushing and drinking too. It evens out."

Aleesa was back outside the cell again when the guard returned with Varel. Aleesa and Varel talked. Anders overheard the name Nathaniel Howe and realised the prisoner must be related to the late Rendon Howe who had killed Aleesa's family.

Aleesa then stated that she planned to conscript the man, a statement that surprised Varel and the prisoner equally.

"No! Absolutely not! Hang me first!" the prisoner demanded. He had come to the door of the cell, and Anders could only make out that the man was tall and broad shouldered.

"Are you really so eager for the hangman's noose?" Anders could not tell if her question was earnest or teasing.

"Are you really so eager to have a Grey Warden who want you dead?" the prisoner retorted in a menacing tone.

Aleesa just laughed. "I met one of my dearest friends after he failed to assassinate me," she replied with a smile. "In fact, it was your father who arranged the attempt."

Anders looked to Oghren for confirmation and the dwarf nodded. "_What have I gotten myself into?"_ the mage wondered. "_This woman is completely mad!"_

"You really want a Howe as a Grey Warden?" The prisoner sounded amazed. "You are a very strange woman. I can't decide if this is a vote of confidence or a punishment."

Varel decided to get straight to the Joining and they led the Howe away. As they passed the two newest Wardens, Anders finally saw the prisoner in good light.

The Howe had dark hair neatly kept from his face in two perfect braids that joined in the back. Something about his features, especially his steel grey eyes, reminded Anders of a bird of prey. The man was clearly cunning and skilled.

What intimidated Anders most about the prisoner was his composure. He was a captive, being led off to possible death, and yet it seemed he owned the room. Then Anders remembered that, until recently, the Howes had owned the entire Arling.

o o o

When Oghren and Anders entered the throne room, Varel was already handing over the Joining chalice. The Howe drank from the cup and soon after collapsed to the floor. Anders neared in time to hear that the Howe would live.

Aleesa looked at the collapsed man with a smile of relief. "Thank you, Varel. Anders and I will take him to his room." With that, Varel and Oghren left them.

Aleesa felt the Howe's brow and then loosened his shirt neck to help him breathe.

"I am right that this man is related to the man who killed your family, right?" Anders asked in disbelief.

"This is Rendon Howe's first born and heir. Rendon betrayed and murdered my family, and I had the personal pleasure of driving steel through his body for it." She gave an evil grin as if reliving his death in her head.

When she spoke again, her tone was factual. "My revenge was complete when the traitor was dead by my hand. It was Alistair who chose to punish the family by taking their land for the Grey Wardens."

"Help me carry him up to his room. He'll need to rest." She gestured for Anders to take the upper body, while she lifted from the lower thigh. Anders slid his arms around the man's chest and lifted him in the air. His face was pressed against the back of the man's neck and he smelled a mix of cypress, sage, and something almost sweet that made his breath catch. He turned his head away and breathed through his mouth.

Aleesa led the way to the room next to Anders' and set the man on the bed. "This was his room, if I recall correctly. It's been many years."

She laughed at Anders' look of surprise.

"Our fathers were friends before Rendon betrayed us. My older brother and Nate played together as children. Last night was not the first night I've slept at Vigil's Keep, and today was not the first time I met Nate. I'm not sure if he has simply forgotten or is choosing not to remember." She sounded a little sad.

"My father always liked Nate. I think he liked the idea of me marrying him."

"You were engaged?"

"No, no. His father wanted us betrothed as children, but my parents wanted me to choose my own husband. As I said, my father liked Nate, but he wasn't going to make any choice like that for me."

"Did you want to marry him?" Anders looked at the noble features of the man on the bed and, for the first time, realised he was handsome.

"Nate has always...intimidated me. And not just because he's older. I was a fearless, bratty, little girl, but Nate has a certain...presence. I wanted someone I felt comfortable with, an equal. Besides, Nate had been shipped off to the Free Marches long before I was ready to give serious thought to marriage."

"So you lost your chance at an arl's son and had to settle for the King of Ferelden, huh?" Anders was laughing at her.

"For your information, Mage, I fell in love with the bastard son of a serving girl who grew up sleeping with dogs."

Anders rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth closed.

Aleesa was gazing at the man she called Nate. "I'm glad he survived. Maybe he'll have a chance to see my brother again. They were so close when they were young. I just hope my brother can learn to separate the actions of father and son. He has struggled with that...Of course, Fergus lost more than any of us that night..."

Anders felt uncomfortable witnessing what seemed like a very private moment. He was about to excuse himself, when she looked up at him with watery blue eyes.

"Thank you...for listening." She shook her head as if to clear it. "I don't know if there's a spell that will help with the pain. Anything is worth a try. Keep an eye on him while I get some food. He'll wake up hungry, but he shouldn't wake up alone."

Anders sat on the edge of the bed and waited. Sometimes the man, Nate as she called him, would thrash and cry out in his sleep. Anders tried a couple of different spells, but could not tell if they made a difference. Eventually, the man stirred and began to blink. Aleesa was not back yet.

"Where...I...ugh..." Nate moaned.

"You're all right. You made it through the Joining and now you're in bed. Aleesa thought this was your old bedroom." Anders was not sure what else to say, so he stopped.

Nate sat up a little and blinked. He looked around the room and then shook his head in disbelief. "Perhaps this isn't her elaborate attempt at killing me...perhaps her memory is longer than mine." He grew quiet and leaned back on the pillows. For the first time, he focused his steel grey eyes on Anders.

Anders wished Aleesa were back. He felt stupid just sitting there. Then he realised Nate did not even know who he was.

"I'm Anders. I'm a mage, and I was yesterday's conscription. I think she really likes the Right."

Nate gave a weak smile that put Anders more at ease. "A very strange woman," he murmured and then stared at the ceiling again.

Aleesa entered with a tray of food. "Sorry about that. Varel had more talking to do and I couldn't get away. I see Nate is awake." She smiled at the resting man. "Welcome to the Wardens. Here. Eat. The taint is going to give you an appetite like you've never known before."

She helped Nate sit up and handed him some bread. He looked at her with a mix of suspicion and confusion, but took the bread and began eating.

o o o o o o o o o


	5. Ch 5 Lost Souls

o o o o o o o o o

Anders awoke in his large, canopy bed. The sun was shining through the windows and there were no Templars to rush or bother him. He rolled over and saw he was alone in bed; the serving girl had sneaked out in the night. Anders shrugged and lolled in the soft sheets for a few minutes more before hunger motivated him from bed.

He threw on a robe and lazily tied it in place before stumbling down to breakfast. Aleesa and Nate had finished eating when he joined them. A servant brought him breakfast and he recognized her as the girl from the night before.

"There you are! So cruel of you to sneak out on me. I wasn't done with you." He gave her a flirty smile and she blushed a deep crimson as she looked at Aleesa and Nate.

"Sorry, Ser." She gave a little curtsy. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"I'll bet you can, but I guess it can wait until later." He turned to his plate and she ran off to the kitchen.

Aleesa rested her forehead against the palm of her hand before speaking.

"Anders? You do realise you just humiliated that poor girl?"

Anders looked up in surprise. His mouth was too full to speak.

Aleesa sighed. "I don't know what things were like in the Tower...No, I take that back. According to Wynne, things were rather...carefree in the Tower when it came to certain things..."

Anders had no idea what she was getting at. He chewed and listened.

"You embarrassed the girl," Nate said simply, "by announcing in front of others that you took her to bed last night. You publicly questioned the girl's virtue." His tone was neutral, but Anders felt the disapproval in his manner.

Anders did not know what to say. There were reasons that mages might keep their goings on secret, but protecting virtue was never one of them. "_I guess when you are already carrying the Maker's curse, what's another mark on your virtue?_" He had not intended to embarrass the girl and felt genuine remorse.

"I'll talk to her," Aleesa said reassuringly. "Just try to be a little more tactful."

Anders looked at Nate, but the bowman avoided his eye. He was looking at the door to the kitchens the girl had used for her escape.

An awkward silence fell on the table, and Anders found his appetite was gone. He left his plate half-eaten and returned to his room. He crawled into bed and tried to fall back to sleep.

Some time later, a knock sounded on the door. Aleesa did not wait for an answer before entering. Anders was lying in bed feeling sorry for himself, and she set down next to him on top of the blankets. She looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and amusement as she spoke.

"I talked to her. It's all right now."

"What did you say?" Anders was still feeling out of his depths with the whole situation.

Aleesa gave him a flirty grin. "I told her that if I weren't married, I'd let you chain me to your bed." She laughed at his even more bewildered expression. "Then I looked embarrassed and begged her not to repeat it."

"So I get in trouble for talking about actually taking a girl to bed, and you make it better by talking about wanting to bed me?" Anders shook his head in confusion.

"By saying I would bed you, I assure her that I don't judge her for doing so. By asking her not to repeat it, I assure her that her secret is safe by offering one of my own. She's happy now. Enough so that you might even lure her back here sometime. Just apologise for your big mouth."

"And did you mean it," Anders was smiling flirtatiously, "about letting me tie you up?"

"If we'd met two years ago, I'd have probably had my with with you the first night." Her tone was factual despite the topic. "But I changed my ways when I met Alistair. You'll understand some day, or at least I hope you will."

She studied him with her eyes and he felt exposed. He deflected her gaze with humour.

"Well if things ever get boring in the royal chamber...if you ever need a third..."

"I'll keep that in mind. So noble of you to offer to serve Ferelden," she added dryly. She got up from the bed and walked to the door.

"Long live the King and Queen!" Anders called as she closed the door behind herself. He lay in bed for a while longer before heading off to find the serving girl and woo her back to his room.

o o o

The new Grey Wardens were doing more standing around, while Aleesa was talking with a sergeant named Maverlies. The sergeant was worried that there were darkspawn trapped in the cellars under Vigil's Keep. Aleesa agreed to explore and led her Wardens into a building in the bailey with access to the network of cellars under the Keep.

As they headed into the dark, enclosed cellars, Anders felt a little twitchy. He did not like small spaces and he did not like being underground. Those two things only brought memories from solitary confinement in the Circle Tower.

Aleesa was too far ahead with Oghren, so he turned to Nate for a distraction.

"So, you're a Howe?" He started.

"Do you have a point, Mage?" came the impatient reply.

"Hey! I'm fond of the Howes. I'm also fond of the Whys, the Whos and the Whats."

"How clever."

"Ah...It's shameful how long it took me to come up with that."

Nate rolled his eyes and moved further away from the mage. Anders was surprised how much the bowman's annoyance bothered him.

They continued down the stairs and into a large room. At the far end lay a filthy and half-dead mabari.

"Poor thing," Aleesa cooed. She comforted the animal and had Anders heal it. She stroked the animal and gently removed a scroll tied to the collar. Reading it aloud, she said that a woman named Adria was trapped further within the cellars.

"Adria! She was...like a mother to me." Nate's voice was filled with emotion. "We _must_ save her."

Aleesa and Oghren exchanged nervous looks that reflected Anders' suspicion that it would be too late for Adria. Even so, they pushed on.

Further in, they encountered a room, a prison of sorts. There were forms moving within. At first Anders thought they were survivors. They were human, or at least they had once been. Now their flesh was discoloured as it decomposed on their bodies. The putrid smell made Anders gag. What remained of their minds was only the compulsion to feed.

Oghren ran at the ghouls with his axe poised and brought three of them down in a single swing. Aleesa joined him and there was a harmony of swords and axe cutting rotting flesh and shattering bone. Anders barely got off a spell before the ghouls had been reduced to decapitated corpses.

Anders noticed that Nate was looking around with a mix of confusion and disgust.

"Not one for prisons," Anders asked lightly, "or just put off by piles of rotting limbs?"

Nate eyed him with suspicion before sighing. "These prisons weren't here when I was a child. But they don't look new enough to be the Wardens doing. I just wonder what occurred at the Keep in my absence..."

"Afraid Aleesa might be right about your father?" Anders said it without thinking and was met with a look of pure venom from the bowman. "_I'll take that as a yes,"_ he thought, but had the good sense to keep his mouth closed at that point.

Nate stormed off to a side door through which Aleesa and Oghren had already disappeared. Anders stood alone, feeling the arse. The sound of fighting brought him running to join the others in what appeared to be a crypt. "_Nothing like fighting skeletons to end those awkward silences."_

When the room was clear, they poked around in crevices and opened tombs. Aleesa pulled a bow from one of the sacks. "Nate?" She was studying a mark burned into the wood. The bowman came to her side. "I thought you'd want to see this."

Nate recognised the bow. He called it his grandfather's bow, although it had been in his family for generations, since the Exalted Marches he said. He was happy to have a reminder of his family's heritage from before his father's time. Anders watched as Nate thanked Aleesa for finding the family treasure.

They travelled deeper underground and Anders worked to keep his nerves calm. "_Can't have my hands shaking during a fight. Might blast the dwarf instead of the darkspawn, and I doubt he'd smell any better on fire."_

They came to a widening in the tunnel and a woman's figure stood out against a larger clearing beyond her. She turned her face to the side and Anders could see that her skin was blotched and rotten like the ghouls they had fought earlier.

"No...no...Adria." Nate sounded close to tears.

The ghoul turned on them and attacked. Anders froze her in place. He did not want Nate to see her any closer than she was.

The bowman had already nocked an arrow in his grandfather's bow and sent it through the chest of what had once been a woman dear to him. A second arrow followed, passing through the ghoul's throat. Nate started to nock a third arrow, but his hands were trembling so that the arrow would not catch. Anders gently placed one of his soft hands on one of Nate's trembling, calloused ones.

"She's gone. It's over." He was whispering.

Nate froze and then pulled his hand away. He did not look at the body or his companions. He turned heel and walked quickly back the way they had come.

Anders watched the bowman retreat. As he was disappearing from sight, Maverlies approached. Nate did not acknowledge her and she continued up to Aleesa. The two women spoke, but Anders heard nothing until Aleesa was calling him to follow her out of the cellars. He silently fell in step behind Aleesa and Oghren.

o o o

Nate was not at the midday meal, and Anders found himself half looking for the man that afternoon. He found Nate outside in the training yard, bow in his hand and arrows planted point down in the dirt.

Anders stood at a distance and watched the man pull an arrow from his feet, lower his bow, and nock the arrow. He brought the large bow back up, pulled back on the string, and let the arrow fly across the yard and deep into a target. Anders stood captivated by the display of strength and grace.

The bowman shot arrow after arrow until they all rested in the target and he had to retrieve them. It was only then that Anders realised how long he had stood watching.

Why had he looked for the man when he knew he did not have the words to comfort him? That was Aleesa's task, and she would handle it far better than he could. As if on cue, Aleesa strolled into the yard from a door near Nate. The bowman looked at her, and she approached him. Anders watched the two talk and felt a strange sadness in his stomach. He suddenly felt very alone.

o o o o o o o o o


	6. Ch 6 Amaranthine

o o o o o o o o o

Anders awoke with the excitement of a small child on his birthday. It was the day they were to travel to Amaranthine. He loved the bustle of the city, and the fact that Aleesa had told him she intended to improve his gear made it even better. He was looking forward to touring the vendors' stalls and actually having the coin to purchase what he wanted.

He dressed in a hurry and rushed down to breakfast. Nate and Aleesa were already seated. What was it about rogues that made them incapable of sleeping to a normal hour? Anders took his seat and beamed.

"Excited for our trip?" Aleesa was amused.

"Leave the Keep, get new robes," he fingered a hole in the robe he wore, "see the sights...yes, I'm excited!" And with that he dove into his breakfast.

It had been agreed that Oghren would stay at the Keep; there would be a Warden on site if needed. While he had come to like the dwarf, Anders was not upset by the thought of some meals enjoyed without the stench of old ale.

Finally ready, they set out from the keep and headed across the bailey. They passed a cluster of houses and Nate stopped and stared at an elf on the common.

"Samuel? Groundskeeper Samuel?" Nate called out.

The old elf approached them. "If it isn't little Nate! I'd know that face anywhere."

Nate expressed his happiness to see the man and asked if Samuel knew how his brother and sister had died. Samuel said that Nate's brother had died in the war, but that his sister was alive and married to a shopkeeper in Amaranthine.

"My sister is alive!" Nate said, looking at Aleesa in astonishment.

"Well, we _are_ on our way to Amaranthine. And we _will_ need to visit various shops to get supplies."

Nate's eyes widened. "Really? We can look for her! Thank you. I would very much like to see her."

Suddenly, Nate looked as excited for their trip as Anders did.

o o o

When they reached the city, Anders was almost giddy. He wandered through clusters of houses outside the city wall absorbing every smell, sight, and sound. Nate had wondered off, but Aleesa was at his side.

"Can you smell that?" He took a deep breath for emphasis. "That is the smell of freedom. It comes complete with the smell of dogs and dust. But the freedom's in there too."

Aleesa gave him a mocking grin. "That's just someone baking a pie," she teased.

"Oh," he groaned "just the fact that there are pies around to smell is a step up for me. I've led a pie-less existence, more or less."

He stood for a moment reflecting on the contrast between his new life and the one he had repeatedly fled. "I escaped from the Tower seven times. After the last time, they put me in solitary confinement for a year. Eventually, I'm sure they would have branded me a maleficar, true or not, and executed me."

Aleesa gave a mirthless laugh. "That Templar seemed keen to have you executed for murder, but maybe she'd throw in a charge of maleficar for good measure." She watched him as he revelled in the simple pleasure of being outside.

Anders sighed. "All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightening at fools."

"Well, since joining the Grey Wardens, you've had pretty girls and boys, decent meals with seconds on pudding, and the right to shoot lightening at darkspawn. Will that do?"

"Hmmm...I guess it might. It just might." Mentally, he added, "_at least for now."_

He noticed that Nate had joined them again. "_How does he move without sound?"_ The bowman's presence made Anders self-conscious and he was eager to move on.

"Never mind me," he said quickly. "Now and again I recall that I'm not sitting in a cell and I have to smile, that's all."

Aleesa nodded in understanding and led them to the city gates.

o o o

They had spent the night in a tavern called the Crown and Lion. Aleesa had taken her own room, but had stuck Anders with Nate. Anders had been quite nervous about that.

Every conversation between the two men ended with Nate being annoyed or even angry at him. It did not help that the man insisted on bringing up the Templars as often as possible. The mere reference to a Templar brought out the snidest comments in Anders.

Anders had to admit that his own attempts at starting small talk had not been brilliant either, but he was at a disadvantage. Nate was a noble. Nobles were supposed to know all about how to make friendly conversation with anyone about anything. He, in contrast, was a mage. He was used to talking to the same people every day. And those people were stuck with him for life. Or so they had thought.

Anders had decided to simply spend as little time in the shared room as possible. That first night, he had waited until the bowman had retired to their room and had time to fall asleep before he went to bed himself.

He usually slept naked, but he had foreseen the possibility of having to share a room with Nate. If Aleesa had chosen a seedier inn, they likely would have had to share a bed! Since he never wore a layer under his robes, he had sought the help of one of the servants at the Keep. He had asked the boy to find him undergarments, and the lad had returned with some braies that would cover Anders' hips and upper thighs. They were short and soft enough that Anders had not thought they would bother him in his sleep. The servant had seemed amused that a grown man, a Grey Warden and a mage, seemed baffled by something as rudimentary as underclothes.

Anders had put on the braies before removing his robes, even though the room was lit only by the fireplace and the only other occupant was asleep. He had to wonder at his sudden modesty. He had slept in a room with forty-four beds for his entire apprenticeship at the Tower. He had seen every one of his fellow dorm-mates change and bathe, and they had seen him. He had never felt embarrassed in front of them, whether he had slept with them or not.

It had seemed odd to be crawling into bed in braies, just because one other man was in the room. "_Maybe I'm adjusting to life outside the Tower. Maybe I'm getting used to privacy._" The explanation had satisfied him and he had soon drifted to sleep.

Now morning had come and Anders worried about negotiating shared space with the grumpy bowman. Looking around the room, he saw that Nate was finishing polishing one of his daggers. Anders sat up in bed and steel grey eyes looked up from the blade to met Anders'.

Anders gave a smirk. "Sorry to interrupt," he teased, "should I avert my eyes while you're rubbing your blade?" "_Shit, there you go teasing him again. Now you're going to get an earful._"

Anders held his breath. Nate had returned his gaze to his blade.

"You don't have to avert your eyes," Nate's voice was impossible to read, "provided you let me watch you polish your staff."

Anders blinked, not sure if the bowman was serious. Then he saw the curl in the other man's lip.

"Well, well! You do have a sense of humour!"

"Something you would have learned earlier if you weren't wasting time making puns out of my name." His tone was mocking, but playful.

Anders found himself cheered by the banter and got out of bed. Nate glanced up at him.

"Braies, huh? I thought mages were sworn to skirts."

Anders blushed. "Robes, actually. But they're not great for sleeping. All the fabric twists around your legs and..."

"I just figured mages probably stripped down to sleep like everyone else."

Anders repeated those last three words in his head. He could not help but think that Nate must be including himself in that statement. He felt himself blush again and turned his back on the other man to hide it. What was with him? Why was he flustered and blushing for no reason?

"Especially," Nate continued, "given your little quip about not wearing robes when you're naked."

Anders remembered the conversation from the walk into the city. Nate had managed to bring up Templars again, and Anders had gone from flirty to snotty in a matter of moments. It was one of the many conversations that ended with Nate being annoyed with him. Anders was surprised that Nate was bringing it up at all, especially in an almost playful tone.

"I...well...I wasn't sure what people do, outside of the Tower that is..." Anders hated how stupid he sounded.

Nate looked at him appraisingly. "They do what they want. No one is going to tell you what to sleep in. Just don't feel you have to wear something for my benefit."

Anders pretended to search for something in his bag. He could not believe how flushed he was.

"I don't. I mean...I just thought I'd wear them...for comfort. It's cold!" He was so glad he finally found something to say that made sense.

"Yeah," Nate said simply, "I sometimes wear another layer if it's cold. Or share a bed."

Anders choked on his own spit. He threw on his robe and fumbled with the ties as he walked to the door.

"I'm going to breakfast." He was amazed that he got the whole sentence out without stuttering. He did not wait for a reply and he certainly did not wait for the bowman to join him.

o o o

They spent the morning in the market district. Aleesa bought Nate some new boots and then let him wander off in search of his sister. She stayed with Anders, buying him a new staff, a magic amulet, and three new robes. He had never felt so spoiled. He was examining some gloves that might better protect his fingers from his own fire spells, when he saw a familiar face.

"Namaya?" He looked at the elven woman again and was sure it was her.

She looked at him as he approached; it was a look of amused irritation. She was annoyed with him, but she had good news. She had found the cache and it was there in Amaranthine! If he could just sneak into the warehouse and get his phylactery, he could be rid of the Templars forever.

He turned around and found Aleesa directly behind him. "_I have got to stop travelling with rogues!"_

"I...suppose that requires some explanation."

"No! Not at all! Don't be silly."

Anders grinned. She had disarmed him enough that he quickly relayed all that Namaya had told him and its significance.

"If your phylactery is here, we will find it and destroy it. You are a Grey Warden and they have no right to track you."

He could kiss her. He felt his chest filling with hope and joy.

"Let's find Nate and then see about this warehouse."

All that hope and joy rushed out of his chest again. "Nate? Why!"

She gave him a suspicious look. "Because we are going to be stealing from the Templars and they might, just might, guard their cache with mana-draining, sword-weilding Templars? Because Nate is an excellent rogue and we might need another fighter? Shall I keep going?"

Anders shook his head. He was going to have to explain himself. "It's just...Nate already sees me as a bother. I don't want to give him more reason. If I'm dragging us off on dangerous tasks for my own personal...I -"

Aleesa held up a hand to stop him. "I get it. As far as I am concerned, this is Grey Warden business because it concerns a Grey Warden. If you want to keep the details from Nate, I can do that. I won't lie to him, but I don't think he'll ask."

Anders was still hesitant, but it seemed the best offer he would get.

They wandered the stalls and soon found Nate. From the delighted look on his face, Anders knew he had found his sister. Nate told them about her husband and how she was with child. He said that she seemed very happy and loved her husband dearly.

Apparently, Delilah blamed their father for the family's fate. Nate seemed more willing to accept the truth of his father's villainy from her. Aleesa listened and offered supportive words from time to time. Anders played it safe by staying silent.

Anders noticed that Aleesa had led them directly to the warehouse Namaya had mentioned. She casually mentioned that she wanted to check the warehouse for stolen merchandise and led the two men inside. Anders was relieved that Nate gave a casual nod and followed without question.

They searched the front room of the warehouse and found nothing of interest. They headed into the smaller back room. Anders felt a sword press into his back at the same moment he saw Rylock and another Templar in front of him.

Rylock's eyes laughed at him before shifting to Aleesa.

"I will take this murderer off your hands now, Warden." Rylock's tone was confident and nasty. "You made a poor choice with him. He will never submit, not to us and not to you."

"What? No! You can't arrest me! King Alistair allowed my conscription!" Anders was beginning to panic.

Aleesa placed a gentle hand on his arm and gave him a little smile. Then she turned menacingly on Rylock.

"I have no doubt that Anders will not submit. The difference is that I would not ask him to. I only ask him to serve our shared calling. You seek some drivelling slave! Maker bless him for not submitting to you!" She was flushed with anger. "And don't you dare think that your little power lust supersedes the rights of the Wardens to protect this land from _actual_ evil."

Her swords were drawn as was Rylock's. The two stared at each other with pure loathing. Not another word was spoken as the three Wardens and three Templars simultaneously began to move.

Anders felt the sword tip drop away from his back. Glancing behind him he saw one of Nate's daggers jutting out of the eye slit of the Templar's helm. A moment later, Rylock was on her knees drooling blood over the sword protruding from her chest. Anders watched as the life slowly left her eyes, and she fell over to her side. He never even noticed the third Templar going down.

He stood in shock until he heard Aleesa swear. "It's not here. It was just a trap."

"If this is a trap," came Nate's calm pragmatism, "let us get out of the heart of it."

With that they headed out.

"It seems the Templars were really sad to loose you," Nate said dryly, "It must be your cute arse." He laughed at his own teasing as he walked up the stairs in front of Anders. He did not see the mage shudder behind him.

o o o o o o o o o


	7. Ch 7 Mischief

o o o o o o o o o

Nate left Aleesa's office after a two hour discussion on priorities and a plan of action. They had decided to save the Arling's economy by securing the Pilgrim's Path. They agreed to leave at first light.

Despite their usual desire to keep a Warden at Vigil's Keep, the situation seemed grave enough to warrant all four of them. Aleesa was to inform Oghren, and Nate was to inform Anders.

Nate found the mage's room empty despite the late hour. "_Perhaps he is raiding the larder for a third helping of pudding._" He went back to the ground floor and headed toward the kitchens. He heard a scream and ran to the door.

Inside he found Anders standing with the front of his robe pulled up. His hips were obscured by the thighs of one of the kitchen staff who was seated on the counter in front of him. Their arms were tangled around each other, and they were rocking and groaning in unison. Neither had heard the silent rogue enter.

Nate realised the true nature of the scream, turned heel, and walked from the room. He would simply bang on the mage's door in the morning.

o o o

Anders had not been pleased with the pre-dawn wake-up call and the information that he was expected to be ready to leave at dawn. But what really annoyed him was Nate's amusement at his discomfort. As he stumbled along the Pilgrim's Path, he alternated which eye he closed in an attempt to half sleep and half walk.

A glance at Nate showed him smirking at the mage's discomfort. He was enjoying it all too much. Anders began formulating a plan.

Aleesa ordered camp at the edge of the Wending Wood. The sun was getting low, and they did not know what the thick wood held for them.

Aleesa and Nate set out bedrolls, while Oghren gathered wood and Anders started supper. Oghren had arranged a tent of sticks which Anders flame blasted into a roaring fire. The mage placed the pot of soup he had prepared within the flames.

The four of them chatted around the fire until the soup was ready to eat. Anders split the pot among four bowls and distributed them to his companions. No one saw the fine powder he added to the bowl he handed to Nate.

All four tucked into the soup with enthusiasm.

"Nate, I think you are sitting too close to the fire." Aleesa had noticed the flush colour of the bowman's face.

"I'm fine," he replied through gritted teeth, "I was just appreciating the flavour of the soup. It's not as bland and tasteless as usual." He shot a look at Anders, but kept his composure despite the sweat rolling down his face.

Anders just grinned at him over his own bowl. "If you like it so much, Nate. I'm sure you'll lick the bowl clean."

After dinner, Aleesa brought up the matter of keeping watch. They would divide the night into three watches, allowing one of them a night off and a solid rest.

Nate looked right at the exhausted Anders and suggested that Oghren take the night off. He then volunteered for first shift and stated that he would wake Anders for the second shift, leaving Aleesa with the third. Aleesa accepted the order and went off to her bedroll.

Second shift was the worst shift, a fact not wasted on Anders. It would mean that the little sleep he did get that night would be divided in half. And he did not help matters by fuming in his bedroll instead of getting what sleep he could. All too soon, Nate was shaking him, a bit roughly, to start his shift.

Nate gave a grin as he sauntered to his own bedroll to enjoy a double-shift of uninterrupted sleep.

It was a mild night, for Ferelden, and they were each sleeping in only linen braies and smocks. Once Nate was fast asleep, Anders began frosting the bottom of the bowman's bedroll with a spell. The cold seeped through the cloth and soon the man was tossing in his sleep.

Nate awoke shivering and pulled a spare smock from his pack. He wrapped the extra clothing around himself and tried to fall back to sleep. As soon as his breathing was heavy, Anders began the frost spell again.

When Nate woke the second time, he added his heavy leather armour to the pile of clothing over his chest.

The third time, he dragged his bedroll closer to the fire. He gave the mage a suspicious look before climbing back in. Anders listened for the breathing change and then cast a frost spell along the base of the bedroll again.

The bowman was out of his bedroll in a single movement. He lunged at the mage, knocked him over, and pinned him to the ground.

Nate was growling curses at him, but Anders began to laugh. Nate relaxed his grip on the mage's shoulders and looked at him with confused annoyance.

"What do you find so funny?" he growled.

"This, us." Anders dissolved into laughter again.

Nate reflected on their behaviour and gave a small laugh himself. "Truce, then?"

"T-tr-truce," Anders managed between chuckles.

"You break the truce, I'll break a bone. Fair?"

Anders nodded, his chuckles slowing.

Nate looked at the mage's tired eyes and shook his head.

"Go to bed, Anders." Anders began to protest, but was cut off. "I said go to bed. Maker knows you need it. You look half-dead and I don't want to mistake you for a darkspawn in the morning. I'll finish your shift for you."

Anders gave him a grateful smile and scurried off to his bedroll before the changeable bowman could reconsider.

o o o

Anders was grateful for the extra rest, as the Wending Wood provided plenty of entertainment for the Wardens. The new talking, scheming darkspawn were sowing discord between the Dalish elves and the humans in the area. A Dalish mage named Velanna had been tricked into thinking her missing sister was being held by human merchants, so she was slaughtering all merchants who passed on the road.

Aleesa managed to talk sense into Velanna and she joined them to explore an old silverite mine. Once convinced that her missing sister had been taken by darkspawn, Velanna was as eager to kill darkspawn as any Grey Warden could be.

Oghren kept watch at the entrance of the mine as the others searched inside. There was no sight or sound of darkspawn.

They wandered down a stair and saw two figures appear above them. One was a tall, thin darkspawn, dressed in robes and what appeared to be a fancy headdress. The other was a dwarven ghoul. The darkspawn spoke and the Wardens and elf were surrounded by strange magic and lost consciousness.

Velanna's sister was there when they awoke to find themselves stripped of their armour and gear and locked in a cage. The sister struck Anders as odd. Her skin resemble the ghouls he had encountered, although she still seemed to possess her senses.

She gave them the key to their cell and urged them to escape. Despite seeming scared, she did not stay with them and showed little interest in escaping herself. When she spoke of the one she called "the Architect," she sounded trusting. Anders suspected that her mind was as impaired as her skin.

They fought their way through the mines, collecting their gear off the corpses of the ghouls and darkspawn they slaughtered.

"Ugh! My robe smells like ghoul!" Anders moaned. "I'm not sure this smell will ever come out."

Anders made note to take a long bath when he made it back to the Keep. Hopefully a soapy soak would lessen the slimy feeling of the rings he had recovered from a corpse.

They finally reached a large room and saw three figures on a balcony above them. Velanna's sister was standing with the darkspawn mage and dwarven ghoul they had seen before they were captured. Anders assumed that the darkspawn, who was clearly in charge, was the Architect the sister spoke of trustingly.

The creature called forth a couple of drakes to attack his prisoners and watched calmly as the Wardens and Dalish elf dispatched them. When the entertainment was over, all three forms retreated into the tunnels behind them and were gone.

Velanna insisted on joining the Grey Wardens so she could sense darkspawn to track and rescue her sister. Anders thought that the flaw in the other mage's plan was that the sister clearly did not want to be rescued. That aside, he saw potential in the pretty elf joining the Order. "_She's a lot nicer to look at than Oghren!_"

He suddenly remembered the dwarf they had left at the mine entrance who knows how long ago. He suggested that they head out of the mine and try to find their companion.

o o o o o o o o o


	8. Ch 8 Killing Blows

o o o o o o o o o

The months that followed kept the Grey Wardens busy and bolstered their numbers. Velanna survived the Joining, as did Sigrun, a dwarf rogue from the Legion of the Dead.

Aleesa and her new Wardens searched for another Warden named Kristoff who had left Vigil's Keep before the darkspawn assault. Unfortunately, he was dead before they found him. A Fade spirit who embodied the virtue of Justice became trapped in the decaying corpse of the Warden warrior. Trapped in their world against his will, the spirit decided to join them in the fight against the darkspawn. They called the spirit Justice.

So much had happened, and yet, for Anders, the most exciting event was that Aleesa gave him a tabby kitten. He named it Ser Pounce-a-lot and and the tiger-like animal became his constant companion around the Keep. Anders had never had a pet of his own, and he found endless opportunities to lavish food and treats on the kitten.

The Wardens had made great progress in uprooting the darkspawn presence in the area. They learned that the darkspawn called the Architect and another called the Mother were leading the darkspawn hordes in the absence of an archdemon. Now the Wardens had only to find and eliminate both threats.

o o o

Aleesa was negotiating some feisty nobles when the elven messenger announced that Amaranthine was under attack. There were soldiers and the city guard, but it was agreed that a few Grey Wardens could greatly help bolster the city's defences.

She placed Sigrun in charge of the Keep's defence in her absence. The Legion of the Dead had given the young rogue the training she would need to defend the fortress against any possible threat. Aleesa then sought out Nate, Anders, and Justice to join her in the defence of Amaranthine.

In the interest of making good time, she insisted on riding horses. Anders complained that he did not know how to ride and would fall off. Aleesa was in no mood for complaints; she simply instructed him to ride behind Nate.

The nobles and the Fade spirit all sat comfortably on their steeds. Anders warily approached Nate's steed. Nate slipped his foot out of the stirrup and instructed Anders to place his left foot in. He grabbed the mage's left hand and told him to stand up on his left leg and swing the right one over the horse's back. Anders nearly fell, but the bowman's tight grip steadied him.

Once Anders was sitting behind the bowman, Nate asked for the stirrup back. He instructed the mage to hold onto the horse with the inside of his legs. Anders was not sure how he was meant to hold onto the massive animal with only the inside of his legs.

"You can hold on to me," Nate allowed. "We can't have our healer falling. And we'll follow the others, so if you _do_ fall the other horses won't trample you."

The last comment unnerved Anders, and he wrapped his arms tightly around Nate's waist. The bowman laughed at him, but the tone was light-hearted.

The three horses set off for the north.

Nate sat proudly astride the steed, moving with the animal in perfect unison. At first Anders was rigid against the larger man, but slowly he relaxed and felt his body join the natural rhythm of the horse's stride.

Pressed against the bowman in front of him, Anders could smell the mix of cypress, sage, and sweetness that he remembered from after Nate's joining. Now there were the additional smells of Nate's leather armour and the oils he used to keep it supple. Anders rested his head against the larger man's broad shoulders.

The rocking motion was making him slightly drowsy. He closed his eyes and focused only on the smell and feel of riding behind Nate. He was aware of the hard armour against him chest and the contrast provided by the soft neck and hair against his cheek. He found himself pleased with the sensations and suddenly realised the potential embarrassment of being pressed up to the other man's back.

He pulled his face back and tried to remember the exact smell of discovering Oghren passed out in his own vomit. He almost gagged at the memory, but felt much more in control of himself. He watched the passing countryside and kept his mind on the impending task of defending Amaranthine from a darkspawn army.

o o o

As they reached Amaranthine, they saw it overrun with darkspawn. The horses began to spook at such monstrous creatures, so the Wardens dismounted, freed the horses, and approached on foot. Anders was glad to be back on solid ground, but he had found himself slightly reluctant to surrender his hold on Nate.

The four Grey Wardens fought their way to the gate, and saw the familiar figure of Constable Aidan. He greeted them, but claimed the city was lost. As they spoke, a lone darkspawn approached and spoke. The darkspawn claimed to be a messenger from the Architect and told them that the Mother was attacking Vigil's Keep.

Constable Aidan reiterated that the city was lost and advised the Wardens return to the Keep. Nate agreed, perhaps wishing to defend his family home, but Aleesa refused.

"We will not abandon the city while there are survivors," she said adamantly. "Vigil's Keep is an impressive fortress, and this is _exactly_ why three Wardens remained there. I have faith in Sigrun to hold the Keep, we will save Amaranthine."

They worked through the city, finding groups of darkspawn fighting the remaining city guard. They joined the fights and were glad to see the number of guards they were able to save, including the City Guard Commander. It was he who informed them that the survivors were barricaded in the Chantry.

Finding no darkspawn in sight, the Wardens headed to the Chantry to check on the survivors. As they neared, they walked in front of the Crown and Lion Inn. Monstrous, insect-like darkspawn were pouring out of the inn.

Aleesa and Justice rushed forward to stem the flow of creatures. Anders cast heals on them from behind. When the creatures ceased to emerge, the duelist rogue and warrior moved down the road to engage a cluster of darkspawn archers. Anders followed.

He was still watching the two sword-wielders, when he heard a shout from behind. Turning around he saw Nate surrounded by the insect-like creatures streaming from the inn once again. The archer was overwhelmed.

Anders cast a healing spell on what he could still see of the other man as he ran to assist. He shot out arcane energy to stun the creatures and then fire blasted a path to Nate's side. The bowman's skin and armour had been shredded, but he was alive.

The mage shielded them before throwing fire at the surrounding enemy. As the last creature fell still, Anders saw Aleesa and Justice fighting their way into the inn. His mana was spent and his body ached with the loss. He fumbled for a lyrium potion. The liquid sustained him and he turned to tend to Nate.

The bowman allowed him to close the worst of the wounds, but then insisted they press on with the battle. They continued to fight, but Anders stayed close to the injured archer. In the breaks between fights, Anders would cast more heals. Nate objected to the waste of mana on non-fatal injuries.

They fought in a blur and were startled to hear the sound of cheers. Looking up from the ogre they had just felled, they realised no new darkspawn approached. The creatures in the city were dead, and the ones beyond the city were retreating.

The little band of Wardens smiled wearily as they stumbled back to the Chantry.

o o o

The same darkspawn messenger who warned them of the attack on Vigil's Keep provided instructions to the lair of the Mother. Aleesa announced that they would set out at first light, but insisted they rest and heal first.

Anders was grateful that Nate would finally allow him to tend to his injuries. The mage was exhausted, but he was also worried about his injured companion. Nate stripped to his small-clothes and looked sadly at the remains of his armour.

"I'm lucky there is an armoursmith among the survivors," Nate said with a sigh, "otherwise I think I would have to face the Mother like this."

Anders looked appraisingly at the bowman's almost naked physique. A lifetime with a longbow had developed strong arms, a broad chest, and a muscular stomach. It was a pleasing sight.

"Might not be a bad tactic, actually," the mage mused. "Maybe she'd swoon and not put up a fight."

The bowman rolled his eyes, but Andes caught the smile on the other man's lips.

"Just patch me up quickly, Anders. I need to see about new armour."

o o o

There were more survivors than any of them had dared to hope, and it was with a mix of pride and relief that the GreyWardens left the city. They knew that rebuilding would be a daunting task, but at least there were people alive to do it.

They made their trek across the countryside to the opening to the Mother's lair on foot. They had left their horses untethered, a bound horse would be unable to escape attacking darkspawn, and there was no time to find them among the chaos that existed in and around the city. They were exhausted before they began, but had to push on.

They fought into the lair only to meet the Architect and his ghoulish dwarven companion. The odd looking darkspawn spoke to them with his unnervingly calm, breathy way of talking.

He explained his plan to use Grey Warden blood to free the darkspawn from the call of the Old Gods. Aleesa refused to aid him.

Anders had thought that not working with the creepy darkspawn who had captured and experimented on them was an obvious choice. He was surprised when Nate seemed tempted enough by the possibility of ending future blights to consider the Architects proposal. Aleesa refused again.

"Look on the bright side, Nate," Aleesa quipped, "there are only two Old Gods left. Worst case, two more blights."

The bowman was not impressed, but he respected the hierarchy of command and accepted her decision.

A fight ensued and both the Architect and his companion were slain. They sat and rested, struggling to find the energy to push on. The motivation came from knowing that they were not leaving until the Mother was slain. No one wanted to make camp in the lair.

When they finally reached her, the Mother's grotesque appearance lent them the will to fight. The very sight of something so miscreated and evil compelled them to slay her. She was a massive creature of tentacles and breasts and she called her heinous children to her aid.

Anders had never drunk so much lyrium in his life, and yet his body still ached for mana. He cast heal after shield after fire and lightning. Still the Mother lashed out with her tentacles and still her children clawed and scratched at their flesh.

Anders was barely conscious when Justice plunged his sword deep into the creature and she ceased to stir. The remaining darkspawn fled. The Grey Wardens sank to the ground and rested before their trek back out into the light.

o o o o o o o o o


	9. Ch 9 Homecoming

**A/N - If you don't want to read explicit M/F sex, stop after 1st break (o o o).**

* * *

><p>o o o o o o o o o<p>

The continuous fighting in Amaranthine and then the Mother's lair had been brutal. Aleesa had done little other than fighting and marching for the last two weeks. Not that the weeks before that had been relaxing either. She was completely exhausted and could barely will herself to keep marching back to Vigil's Keep.

Justice never seemed to tire, or perhaps he simply failed to understand the sensation, but Nate and Anders looked as tired and sore as she did. Of course, only Anders was wasting breath complaining.

"...and poor Ser Pounce-a-lot! Left at the Keep without me. He'll be lonely and afraid, and what if Sigrun forgot to feed him!"

"Given that she's been defending the Keep against a darkspawn army, that is a genuine concern." Only Nate would find the energy to provoke the mage.

"He could be starving! I swear on Andraste's knickers that once I get back to the Keep I am never leaving on one of these stupid adventures again!"

"If you like being confined to a building, I've heard about a tower that would be more than happy to have you. They'll never make you step outside again." Nate was enjoying himself too much.

"You're a real bastard, you know that?" Anders had now found the energy to pout.

"No, I'm afraid I'm not. I probably would be better liked by the people of Ferelden if my father had done me the courtesy of not acknowledging me."

Aleesa stopped listening. Usually she enjoyed hearing the mage and bowman's banter, but she could no longer focus.

They rounded a bend and laid eyes on Vigil's Keep. "_Thank the Maker!_" The sight of the end gave them renewed energy.

Sigrun met them at the gate of the bailey looking as perky as ever. "Our scouts saw you coming. Welcome back!"

"Is Ser Pounce-a-lot all right?"

"Yes, Anders. He's fine. So is Oghren, or at least he's much as you left him. Velanna is...missing. Some debris fell where she was standing, but when we cleared it there was no body."

Aleesa shook her head in disbelief. "What is it with mages disappearing on me after key battles?"

Much like with Morrigan, Aleesa was not really surprised. She had her suspicions about why Velanna had left and where she had gone. She would have to send word to Leliana in the Deep Roads. Without the Architect, Aleesa feared Velanna's sister would become a broodmother. No one deserved that fate, and no one deserved to see it done to one's sister.

"_I'm_ still here!" Anders looked huffy as Aleesa returned from her thoughts.

"And believe me, I'm grateful for that cute arse of yours. Especially as you are now our only mage."

Aleesa delighted in watching Nate shift his stance awkwardly whenever she flirted with Anders. It was a minor movement that went unnoticed by most, but to her it was tell-tale. The mage knew it was all in jest, but perhaps the bowman was not certain.

Once within the keep, Aleesa ordered them all to care for their own needs. Food was set out for them and she ate buttered bread and cheese on the way to the keep's public bath. She scrubbed down and then stepped into the large soaking tub. The hot water soothed her muscles and relaxed her such that she nearly fell asleep in the tub.

Satisfied that she would not starve and was vaguely clean, she went to bed with the intention of staying there for at least a day.

o o o

She awoke to the clatter of a horse charging through the bailey to the edge of the keep. The stables were at the far end of the bailey, so it was odd for a horse to be ridden right up to the stairs to the keep.

"_I knew I should have closed the windows,"_ Aleesa thought groggily, "_Stuffy is at least silent._" She could hear shouting, but could not distinguish the words or speaker. "_Male. Men. Oh why don't they shut up?_" She tried to close her eyes and return to her slumber, but she had slept just enough that her curiosity was keeping her awake.

She pulled herself from bed and pulled a dressing gown around herself. Opening the door, she could hear that the shouts were now within the keep. She looked down the corridor to see two men round the corner. Varel was scurrying behind a man dressed in tattered finery.

"Alistair?"

"Maker's breath and blood! You're alive!" He sprinted the rest of the hallway and was on her, kissing her hard on lips, cheek, and throat. "Thank the Maker you're alive."

He scooped her up and carried her into her room. His foot slammed the door shut behind them.

He took her to the bed, still cradling her in his arms. She looked into his eyes and saw uncertainty, relief, and total joy.

"I heard about Amaranthine. I feared the worst. I was so scared." He mumbled. And then his lips were pressed hard on hers again.

She parted her lips and felt his tongue rush inside her mouth. The sensation reminded her of him pushing inside her and her hips twitched in response. Her hands were at his back and arse pulling him harder against her. She could feel his erection growing through their clothes and she ground herself up against him.

She had missed him. Her body had missed his.

The strong hands that had been cupping her face slid down her throat. His lips followed. He caressed the outer sides of her breasts as he placed wet kisses along her collarbone. He untied her dressing gown and pulled it open, exposing her breasts to the air. His lips were on the soft skin, kissing circles around her nipples while gently cupping with his hands.

Her moan of delight encouraged him, and he took a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, leaving it glistening as he pulled away. He blew softly on the tender, wet skin, and she groaned at the sensation.

By then she was grinding her hips hard against his erection, desperate for more contact. He moved down her, kissing her soft stomach, hips, and thighs. He ran his tongue up the inside of her thigh, and she purred. His hands were stroking her thighs as he moved between her legs.

He nudged her with his nose before using a flat, wet tongue against her. She bit her own hand to muffle her groan. He kissed and licked her as she moaned and fought to keep her hips still. Then he slipped two fingers inside her. She squeezed herself around the fingers and he responded by crooking his fingers and pressing that spot inside her. She cried out in pleasure, gasping as he rubbed the spot again.

He began stroking his fingers in time with the movements of his tongue. She was trembling with pleasure.

"More," she gasped. "I need more, I need you."

He pulled away from her and she almost sobbed with need. He shed his tattered clothing quickly and then climbed up her. When his hips neared her mouth, she took the tip of his erection into her mouth. With her hands on his firm arse, she guided him in until he hit the back of her throat. It was his turn to moan.

He gently stroked his hips, feeling her lips and tongue moving over his length. Then he pulled out and moved himself down between her knees. He placed himself against her entrance and she ground her hips up in invitation. Careful to keep his weight on his arms, he entered her gently. She purred and he thrust himself deep inside. She arched her back as a deep moan escaped her.

He pulled away slowly and then plunged back in. He increased his pace as he leaned forward to kiss her breasts and neck. Their eyes met and he gave her a smile of complete joy. She started to smile, but his lips pressed hard against hers. Their tongues rubbed against each other in unison with their hips.

Hands moved from hair to back to arse, desperately trying to pull themselves closer together. Alistair could not be deep enough within her and she begged him to thrust harder, faster. Tension was building up within her and no amount of him would satiate her hunger. She licked and bit at his neck and shoulder. Her short nails dug deep into his back.

She felt her climax build and screamed his name as her body shuddered and trembled. She contracted hard around him, pushing him to his own edge. His body shook as he released himself deep within her.

They rocked slowly together, gently kissing and nuzzling each other's skin. He lowered himself to his elbows and kissed her softly on the lips.

He stared into her eyes and she could see that his were full of emotion. "I was travelling," he began between kisses, "I came back and had messages waiting. You wrote you were off to fight in Amaranthine...There were reports Amaranthine had fallen...I didn't know what to make of it all and I wasn't going to sit in Denerim and wait for the news to trickle in! I rode through the night to get here and...well, I may have gotten a bit panicky."

She laughed. "I love your talent for understatement." She ran a hand softly down the side of his face. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too. And I'm done with spending months apart. I've been absolutely miserable. You taught me to stand up for myself and carve out my own happiness. And being apart is definitely not making me happy."

"Then I take it you'll be staying for a bit?"

"We will never be apart that long again."

She kissed him deeply, his words still playing like music in her ears.

o o o o o o o o o


	10. Ch 10  Rest and Relaxation

A/N - I am very grateful to my lovely beta, Kelcat, for helping me revise these earlier chapters. It was her probing questions that made me aware that revision was necessary in the first place!

* * *

><p>o o o o o o o o o<p>

Aleesa had declared a week of rest and recovery for her Wardens. She was obviously enjoying her own decree, as she and Alistair rarely left her room except for meals and minimal sparring. Nate observed that even their time in the practice yard seemed to be a type of foreplay.

Nate had enjoyed a couple of days of rest, but was not one to be idle; he practised his bow everyday, duty or not. He had taken up sparring with Sigrun to replace the extra time Aleesa no longer spared him. The dwarf's fighting style was different, and Nate was grateful for the challenge. He and Aleesa could read each other so well that their sparring matches almost seemed rehearsed.

With the practice session over, Sigrun left Nate to meticulously tend to his weapons as he always did. Daggers sharpened and polished, he had some time before the midday meal. He was sweating from the exercise and decided to indulge in a long bath to soak his muscles. He had been quite sore since the intense fight against the Mother.

He stopped by his room to strip down to his breeches and then walked to the keep's baths. He stopped at the door when he heard merry voices and laughter within.

The door opened, and a soldier emerged. The man flushed at the sight of Nate and stammered "Good morning, Ser," before scurrying away. Nate walked inside knowing Anders would be there.

Sure enough, the mage was sitting in the large soaking tub. His head was tilted back, resting on the edge of the tub, and his eyes were closed. The tips of his dark blond hair were wet from the water, while the strands around his face were damp with sweat. Nate wondered if the hot water alone was responsible for Anders' flushed appearance.

Nate dropped his gaze and noticed two goblets and a dark glass bottle on the floor. Nothing about the scene matched Nate's experiences from the Free Marches of austere military living.

He cleared his throat noisily and the man in the tub opened an eye to look at him. A flirtatious grin spread across the mage's face.

"Are you next?" Anders asked, leaning forward invitingly.

"Please just tell me you weren't doing anything _in_ the water." The other tubs were empty, so Nate would have to join Anders or forego the comfort of a hot soak.

Anders pouted and leaned back against the edge of the tub again. "You are no fun at all," he commented as he closed his eyes again.

"You didn't answer my question." Nate was seriously considering leaving, but his body simply did not want to move.

"It wasn't a question; it was a request," Anders' tone was mocking him. "But 'no,' we didn't defile your precious water." Then with an impish grin and a single opened eye he added "you might want to avoid that bench though, if you're so picky."

Nate had stripped naked and been about to leave his breeches and smallclothes on a bench. At the mage's words, he simply dropped his clothing to the floor. He scrubbed himself from a bucket of soapy water and rinsed. Then he joined the mage in the hot water of the large tub, deliberately sitting on the exact opposite end.

Anders eyed him with his flirtatious smile. Nate felt exposed under the lecherous gaze, but simply raised an eyebrow to show he was unimpressed.

"I could help you relax, you know," the mage purred. "All that bow work, you should really have those shoulders rubbed down."

"_Maker!,_"Nate thought. _"Your last conquest _just_ left!_" He did not let his thoughts show, however, maintaining a look of cold boredom.

"You are as transparent as a sheet of glass, Anders," he said simply.

"Okay, so perhaps I had other things in mind." Anders' grin was unapologetic. "But I'm still right about the shoulders and the bow use. You'll come crying to me when you strain yourself fighting and need to be healed. It's far safer to do preventative treatment now. What if that strain came mid-battle and you were unable to fight?" Anders was wearing an exaggerated look of concern.

Nate eyed him suspiciously, but had to concede that his muscles were in need of treatment. Dare he give in and allow Anders to massage his aching muscles? He had no doubt it would feel good, but it felt decadent and dangerous.

Anders pressed on. "I am the healer of the Grey Wardens and you are a Warden. Keeping you in top fighting form is my _responsibility_. Now turn around so I can deal with those neglected muscles."

Nate doubted the sincerity of Anders' sudden concern with his responsibilities, but he found himself giving in to temptation. Reluctantly, he turned his back to the mage and felt strong, soft hands begin rubbing his shoulders. Healing spells mixed with the motions of long, smooth fingers. It felt divine, but Nate could not forget that he was sitting naked in warm water with an equally naked Anders. That the naked mage was touching him in ways that made breathing more difficult only raised his guard further.

"Relax!" Anders scolded. "I can't heal you if you don't relax your shoulders!"

Nate was still rigid.

There was a pause before the healer spoke again. "When you aren't fighting, you unstring your bow, right?"

"Yes" the archer agreed cautiously. He was surprised Anders had paid _any_ attention to the basics of archery.

"Well your body needs the same as your bow. Time to unstring."

Anders was using only three fingers on the back of Nate's neck. It seemed innocent enough. Nate took a deep breath and tried to relax. This was his healer. This was part of keeping his body fit to fight. That it felt so good was irrelevant.

Anders' able fingers dug into tense muscles, warming them with magic as he massaged. The healer slowly moved to shoulders and carefully unknotted the muscles there. Nate could feel his shoulders ache as they slowly opened and released their tension. He moaned as Anders worked a knot under his shoulder blade.

The combination of massage and hot bath were working to create a level of relaxation Nate had not felt in years. He let a contented smile creep along his lips and his breathing deepened. He could almost have fallen asleep in Anders' care.

o o o

Anders smiled as he finally felt Nate relax into his hands. He worked his hands along the bowman's muscled shoulders and delighted in the feel of the other man's bare skin. It seemed to have taken forever for things to come this far. Anders' repeated attempts to flirt with Nate were usually met with irritation. This was the most intimate they had ever been after months of Anders' effort.

He wondered why he still bothered. Vigil's Keep was full of attractive and willing bed-mates, but Anders repeatedly dreamed of Nate. He might have written the noble off as an impossible conquest, but there had been those very rare times when it seemed the bowman was flirting with him! And for some ridiculous reason, a single flirtatious smile or comment from Nate turned him into a blushing, bumbling fool.

So it seemed an act of the Maker himself that Anders now found himself naked in a tub with the rogue of his fancy, being allowed to rub his hands along the man's strong shoulders and back. Having made it this far, Anders could not resist seeing how much further things could go...

o o o

Nate's eyes flew open at the sensation of a tongue gliding up the edge of his ear. The tongue flicked inside and Nate pulled away. He moved to the far end of the tub and glared at Anders.

"That was _not_ part of the healing process," he said sternly.

"I am the healer here. And I use many different techniques." Anders' tone was calm and seductive as he moved across the tub toward Nate.

Nate turned away from the mage, stood up, and stepped out of the tub. He wrapped a towel around himself as he faced the wall. He was afraid Anders would notice the swelling of his groin. "_Weak, treacherous flesh_." He quickly dried off with a second towel.

"Like I said before," Anders pouted, "You are no fun at all."

Nate found himself suddenly angry. He rounded on the mage. "If you're already bored of all the serving girls and soldiers at Vigil's Keep, perhaps you should ask Aleesa for leave to visit Amaranthine. I hear they have a brothel there. Maybe they are hiring."

Nate knew he had gone too far, but he doubted the mage would care. The man took nothing seriously. He grabbed his clothing from the floor and stormed out.

o o o

Anders sat in the tub long after Nate left. Rejection and insults were hardly new to the mage. Why did it sting so deeply this time? Anders did not want to think about it, but it was not long before hurt turned to anger.

"_Self-important, pretentious bastard! Just because he is noble-born he thinks he is better than everyone else. Does he even count as a noble any more? His family was stripped of their title and lands!"_

Anders sat and fumed.

Finally he dressed and went to the dining hall. When he arrived, he sat apart from the other Wardens and ate in a silent sulk. Even the arrival of Ser Pounce-a-lot, who playfully batted at his robe, did little to change Anders' mood. He was angry at Nate for his insult, but he was far more angry at himself for caring.

Anders saw Sigrun watching him and then turn and comment to the table of Wardens. He could not hear her words, but one by one every Warden turned to look at him with concern. Every Warden, except Nate.

o o o

"So why is my healer sulking?" Aleesa had cornered Nate in the practice yard later that afternoon.

"Why would I know?" the bowman asked defensively.

"Because you were the only one who didn't seem surprised that he was sulking."

"He's _always_ sulking. He's just moody. Give him a bit and he'll be all jokes and smiles again."

"Do I have to make it an order, Nate?" She was giving him that stubborn look that made it clear she would not drop the matter.

"Fine! He came on to me, I turned him down, and" his voice got very quiet as he reached the actual confession, "called him a whore."

"What was that?"

"I called him a whore," Nate repeated angrily. "Not in so many words. I told him to visit a brothel and then added that they might be hiring."

Aleesa stood quiet for a long time. "Go apologise," she said simply.

"What!" Nate had a flashback to Adria making him apologise to Delilah for one of his many pranks. He did not care for little Aleesa Cousland making him feel like a child.

"Apologise! You insulted your comrade, go apologise." Aleesa, still looking stubborn, clearly felt this was a matter of principle.

"You have got to be kidding! And what about _him_? _He_ came on to _me_!" Nate was trying very hard to feel justified.

"And you have every right to say 'no,'" Aleesa said, still talking to him as if he were a child. "But you do not have the right to insult a Grey Warden."

"You're being absurd, Aleesa. This is an order of fighters, not Orlesian ladies at a high tea worrying about manners."

"We are a small, elite order of fighters who rely heavily on our camaraderie to make up for our small numbers. I enjoy some teasing and banter, but I will not tolerate in-fighting."

Her tone shifted from annoyed to disappointed, and her stubborn expression melted to pleading.

"I see you as my second-in-command, Nate. I need the Wardens-_all_ of them-to feel they can talk to you and trust you in my absence. _Please_ go apologise to Anders."

The fight went out of him as he gave a simple nod; he really could not justify his actions. Most people simply did not get under Nate's skin, so he was not used to losing his temper so easily. The mage, however, irritated him in a way no one else could.

Was it really so bad to be flirted with by a handsome man? He had never been so irritated with the many fake and ambitious young nobles who had flirted with him in his youth in hopes of an advantageous marriage or liaison. And many of them had lacked Anders' more redeeming features.

Nate stopped his line of thought. It felt too much like walking over a barely-frozen lake.

He took a deep breath and left the practice yard.

o o o

When Nate reached Anders' door, he realised he had no idea what to say. "_Perhaps 'sorry' will be enough._" He knocked on the door.

There was no reply, but Nate could hear hear little noises within. He knocked again and was ignored again.

"Okay, I am coming in. If you are _in the middle of something_...you might want to say something now."

"Go away."

"Are you alone?" Nate really did not want to walk in on something, again.

"Surprisingly, the whore is alone." Anders spat bitterly. "It must be my break."

"Can I come in?" Nate was still hoping this could be handled civilly.

"No."

"I want to talk...please?"

"No."

Nate sighed. He needed to apologise, but the mage was not letting him.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said the thing about the brothel."

Silence.

"Anders? Did you hear me? I said -"

"I heard." The mage sounded petulant. "You may be sorry you _said_ it, but you still _think_ it."

"That's not -" Nate stopped himself. He would not deny it just to spare feelings. He was honest to a fault, and Anders did behave like a whore. Worse, actually, in that he was not driven to his behaviour by a need to earn coin and survive.

Anders correctly interpreted his silence. "See! You _do_ think it!"

Nate deeply resented having this conversation through a door. He was worried someone would walk by and witness the scene.

"I am coming in," he declared, and he opened the door despite the mage's protests.

Anders was lying in bed. From his bare arms and chest, Nate knew he was not in his robe.

"Lying in bed, naked, in the middle of the day is hardly the way to refute accusations of being a whore," Nate said with a low chuckle. "Although being alone is a good start."

Anders sat up in bed and glared daggers at him.

Nate sat on the edge of the bed and looked the mage in the eyes. For some reason, he was struck by the warm amber colour. He ignored the thought and spoke his mind.

"You haven't been to the practice yard in days. Nor have you made a single potion. You have done nothing to contribute to the Wardens since we slew the Mother."

Nate felt his control slip as he rattled off the list of grievances he had been mentally collecting against the mage.

"Instead, you have done your best to distract every soldier and servant from their own duties. You claimed to be interested in my health in an attempt to add me to your list of conquests, immediately after using a public room to get up to Maker-knows-what with a random soldier!"

Nate took a deep breath.

"I am sorry I said what I did, but it is hardly surprising that I am not impressed with your behaviour!"

Anders' face was scarlet and his eyes raged as he glared at his accuser.

Nate could see the intensity of the other man's emotions. He had come to make amends, and he had made things far worse. He ran his hand over his face.

"I'm sorry. You were right. I should just go."

The bowman stood and left the room in silence.

o o o

The next morning, Nate was up with the sun like usual. He dressed and grabbed his bow for his pre-breakfast practice. Moving into the hallway, he nearly tripped over the health and stamina potions sitting by his door. So many potions would have taken the mage all evening to make.

Nate walked to the practice yard and had his second surprise of the morning. Anders and Alistair were in the throws of an intense fight. Anders was doing his best to char the warrior; the warrior was using his Templar training to reflect the spells back at the mage.

They had both worked up a serious sweat by the time Nate arrived. Anders was wearing the low-cut robes they had looted after their battle against the Architect, and Nate absent-mindedly watched the way the mage's chest glistened in the sun.

Alistair took a step back and held up his hands in surrender. "Mercy, Mage, mercy!" He was smiling and gasping for breath. "Being king doesn't afford much time for sparring. I'm not in the shape I once was."

"Well all the more reason to push you while you're here," the mage retorted with a grin.

"After breakfast. A man needs food!"

Anders beckoned to Ser Pounce-a-lot, who was chasing a leaf nearby, and the two smiling men and the cat went into the keep.

Nate reflected on the morning's surprises as he sent arrow after arrow into the far target. He had viciously criticised the mage, and the mage had responded by rising to the challenge. Perhaps he had judged too harshly. Perhaps he had been wrong in his assessment of the man.

o o o

At breakfast, Nate silently watched Anders banter with his fellow Wardens. He observed their laughter and noted that each left in high spirits. When the other Wardens had left the hall, the bowman pulled the mage aside. The healer's face was unreadable.

"I'm sorry," Nate began, "for what I said yesterday. For saying it _and_ for thinking it. I was wrong."

For a long moment, the two men stood, each assessing the other as if they had just met. Then Anders cracked a smile so infectious Nate could not help but mirror it. He ignored what the mage's smile did to his breath.

"Forgiven," Anders said simply.

o o o o o o o o o


	11. Ch 11  Furrowed

o o o o o o o o o

Anders had the room to himself, but he was too tired from the walk to Amaranthine to make much use of it.

He chose the bed closer to the door. The noise in the hallway would not bother him, but Nate would sleep better in the dark, quiet corner. _When_ he came to bed.

Anders wondered what assignment Aleesa had given the bowman that was keeping him out so late. She had been in a rotten mood since Alistair had returned to Denerim. Whenever she resented her own duty, she always seemed to find more work for Nate.

"_Poor sod_," Anders thought as he removed his robe, pulled on the braies he slept in whilst travelling, and climbed into the soft sheets. "_I guess I'll leave a candle burning for him. Not that he needs it, sneaky bastard..._" He was quickly asleep.

He awoke in the night. It was hours later, judging by how little remained of the candle. A glance at the bed in the corner showed that Nate had still not returned. Anders felt a twinge of worry, but ignored it. "_He's a big boy; he can look after himself. Besides, why should I care?"_ Then he blew out the candle, leaving only the glow from the fireplace. He willed himself to sleep, lest he actually consider his own question.

Anders stirred, slowly becoming aware of birds chirping and sunlight pouring in through the window across from his bed. He rolled onto his side and looked at the far corner. A figure was lying fully dressed on the bed. It was an odd sight, given that Nate always woke first. Anders wondered if he had ever seen the other man sleep by daylight. Lost in thought, he left his bed and quietly made his way to the corner. He stood very still, looking down on the sleeping form.

It was surprising to see Nate so deeply asleep; he seemed completely lost in dreams. Anders felt a rush of pity as he noted Nate's clenched hands and deeply furrowed brow. He felt a sudden impulse to embrace the sleeping man and kiss his worries away. Without thinking, he lowered himself to his knees and leaned forward. He lightly kissed the knotted brow. A tiny smile was on Anders' lips as he pulled away.

Then there was crushing pain against his throat. He gasped in shock and could not recover the air. He felt dizzy and saw little flashes of light. Just as suddenly, the pressure was gone.

"Maker's Breath, Anders!" came the roar. "What in Andraste's name were you thinking?"

Anders had fallen back onto his knees and was now gasping and coughing with one hand on his throat and the other on the floor.

Nate sat up on the side of his bed and rested one hand gently on Anders' bare back. "Are you okay?"

Anders sat back on his heels and nodded between gasps.

"Don't you know better than to creep up on a rogue in his sleep? I could have killed you before I knew who you were!" As Nate calmed down, suspicion had replaced the concern in his voice.

"What were you doing anyway?"

Anders had yet to lift his eyes from the floor. "Nothing", he mumbled as he got to his feet. He started to walk away.

The rogue stood as well. "I'm serious, Anders. What were you doing?"

When Anders did not reply, anger joined suspicion.

"Another one of your pranks?" Nate growled.

Anders had made it across the room, but the rogue was on his heels. A firm hand turned him around, but Anders still avoided eye contact.

"Anders!" The rogue now had him pinned against the wall with a hand on each shoulder. "Just answer the sodding question."

"I said 'nothing.' Just drop it." Anders glared at Nate's shoulder.

Nate slammed his hand against the wall next to Anders' head, and the mage finally met bowman's grey eyes. The two glared at each other.

After a solid minute of silence, Nate dropped his hands.

"Fine. You want to act like a child. I'll treat you like one. I'll go get your mother and see if she can get you to talk."

"My mother?"

"I'm sure Aleesa is up by now."

"Aleesa? What? No! Wait, no!" Anders was not entirely sure why he was so embarrassed, he had kissed lots of people in his time. Of course, those people had been awake and the kisses were messier, more passionate, and part of a larger plan.

Whatever the reason, he found himself mortified by the chaste kiss he had placed on the sleeping man's brow. He knew that adding an audience would only make it worse, so he considered his options.

"Fine. Fine, I'll tell you."

Nate folded his arms and cocked his head to the side as he stared at the mage and awaited his tale. Anders avoided his eyes and slowly began to talk.

"I woke up and saw you were still asleep. It's not like you. I went over to...see. You were out so late...and then you were sleeping...you looked...troubled. I felt...I...I kissed you." Then the words came in a rush: "Just on the forehead! And it didn't mean...It was just that...oh, just laugh or hit me already."

They stood in silence.

Anders risked a glance at the other man. Nate's expression was blank, although his eyes shone with undecipherable emotion. Anders was relieved that it did not look like mockery or anger. Surprise, certainly, maybe amusement. But there was something else the mage could not identify.

As Anders watched, Nate's mouth slowly moved into a tiny smile. Leaning forward, Nate placed a firm kiss on Anders' forehead.

"Now we're even," he said softly. Anders' mouth fell loose in surprise.

Indecision flashed across Nate's face before his features fell into the stubborn set Anders knew so well.

Nate leaned toward him again, this time softly kissing his lower lip. Teeth gently teased the lip before the bowman pulled it into his mouth, sucking lightly. Anders felt the larger man release him and begin to pull away; he pressed forward against the retreating mouth.

Their mouths met with lips apart and their tongues fought passionately. Gentle hesitation was forgotten. Nate's hands stroked Anders' throat and hair, while Anders' hands slid down Nate's hips. Anders pushed Nate away by one shoulder, pivoting him until his back hit the wall. Now it was the rogue who was pinned; the mage was the aggressor.

He kissed and nipped at the larger man's ear, moving down his neck to his collarbone. He began to caress the archer's thigh with his fingertips, when a knock sounded lightly on the door.

"Anders?" Aleesa called softly.

Nate let his head fall back against the wall. "Fuck," he growled under his breath.

Anders gave a wicked grin and lifted an eyebrow. "That's certainly what I had in mind." He ground his hips forward for emphasis. He then went back to the rogue's neck.

"We'll be down in a bit, Aleesa." Nate called to the door.

"Nate? You're up? Okay, I'll see you down there. I'll order coffee."

Anders had stopped nibbling Nate's neck only long enough to whisper a bad joke in reply to "You're up?" He had slid his hands behind Nate's back, up under the leather skirt, and down the back of his braies.

"Anders, we are expected downstairs," Nate said to him calmly.

"You're kidding, right?" He barely moved his mouth from the other man's skin to speak.

"I am _not_ kidding," Nate replied as he extracted himself from Anders and walked over to his bag. "We are here for Grey Warden business. We have responsibilities."

Anders pouted in disbelief. He had waited far too long to suffer another delay needlessly. "I don't remember the part of the oath where we swore to entertain the Warden-Commander over breakfast."

"I suspect that she has assignments for us, and she'll want my report on last night."

"Oh fine," Anders grumbled, "but can't that wait a liiiiittle while longer?" He moved over to where Nate was closing up his bag.

"No. Get dressed. I'll see you down there." Nate was halfway to the door before he turned heel and walked up behind the disappointed mage. Anders felt the bowman's strong arms wrap around his waist as lips and teeth kissed and nipped the back of his neck.

"We will have our own time later," a low, thick voice whispered in his ear. Then there was another kiss on the side of his neck before a firm hand smacked his arse – hard!

Nate turned and walked out of the room.

o o o

Aleesa looked up from her cup to see a grinning Nate approach the table.

"Wow. I should give you shit assignments more often. Who knew you were a glutton for punishment."

"Yes, I love spending all night finding the seediest taverns in a half-ruined city." He sniffed his shirt. "I think I still smell like misery and despair." He then filled her in on his assessment of the city's recovery based on observation and eavesdropping.

"Excellent. Thank you." Aleesa was impressed, like usual, with her fellow rogue's ability to take in and analyse every detail of a situation.

"To make up for last night," she began, "this morning you get a good assignment. You'll be checking in on the city guard. So you and Guard-Commander Liam can enjoy one of your three hour discussions on military tactics."

Nate smiled at her teasing. No one understood the way that Nate and Liam could discuss strategy in fine detail as a form of entertainment. The men had begun to take pride in the way their discussions could clear a room.

"I also want you to observe training," she added. "See how the new recruits are fitting into the guard."

Anders strolled up to the table looking cheerful. He chose the chair beside Nate and the two shared a smile. Aleesa pretended not to notice.

Having had her own courtship with Alistair subjected to tireless commentary by her then travelling companions, Aleesa wanted to respect her Wardens' privacy. If it did not affect their duties, it would remain their private business.

o o o o o o o o o

* * *

><p><span>Author's note<span>: This chapter was the starting point for this whole story. Both this chapter and the story as a whole were, at least partially, inspired by the Tom Petty song _Alright For Now_.

_"So sleep tight baby, unfurrow your brow_

_And know I love you, we're alright for now"_


	12. Ch 12  Trust

o o o o o o o o o

While Anders bought supplies and Aleesa met with local nobles, Nate spent the morning at the barracks. Guard-Commander Liam spoke frankly about his success in recruiting new guards from throughout the arling and from Denerim. His requests for funds and supplies seemed reasonable, especially as the city's treasury was overburdened by the reconstruction and the city needed protection in its vulnerable state.

Observing training had assured Nate that what the guard lacked in numbers, they made up for in skill. He had even noted some potential recruits for the Grey Wardens. With plenty to report, he returned to the Crown and Lion Tavern for the midday meal.

Aleesa was at their usual table, frowning at one of the various letters she had brought with them.

"Troubles, fearless leader?" the bowman asked dryly.

"Greagoir."

"The Templar?"

"The Templar-_Commander_. The one who was not happy to hear that we killed Rylock and two other Templars over a trouble-causing mage." She gave him a weary look. "We've been exchanging letters ever since. He still feels it was all a misunderstanding and that I drew swords too quickly."

"The sword pressed into Anders' back wasn't provocation enough?" Nate asked coolly.

"It was enough for me," she assured him. She gave a sigh and searched his steel-coloured eyes before continuing.

"There is a maleficar I met during the Blight: Jowan. He was poorly played by Loghain. He poisoned and nearly killed Arl Eamon, believing he was serving Ferelden. He seemed genuinely remorseful about it and even fought a demon to save Eamon's son.

Nate nodded; he had heard bits of the tale before.

"The Templars took Jowan, and Greagoir planned to execute him. I intervened. I want to make Jowan a Warden and let him make up for his past. He has used blood magic, but only in dire situations. I think he can give it up. Greagoir trusts me enough to delay execution, but is not fully convinced. Until I can convince him, Jowan rots in a cell in the tower."

"Why not use the Right of Conscription?" Nate asked. "You seem quite fond of it." A teasing grin.

"I conscripted Anders in front of Alistair, and Rylock only backed down because he supported me. Alistair hates Jowan for poisoning Eamon. He probably wants him dead more than anyone does. In fact, I think he assumes that Jowan _is_ dead. I'd like to keep him thinking that until I can resolve the matter."

"Ah, the shared confidences of marriage," Nate teased.

"I love Alistair, and I trust his judgement in most matters. How to justly address a blood mage who attempted to murder his childhood father-figure is _not_ one of those matters." She muttered something about blighted Templar training.

"If I push Greagoir too hard, he might resist and bring the matter to Alistair. Alistair would deny the Right, not only leading to Jowan's execution -"

"But setting a dangerous precedent for less Warden-friendly monarchs in the future." Nate finished for her.

"Exactly." She nodded and gave him a grateful look. He knew how much she needed to feel understood.

"So we keep the Templars happy until Greagoir agrees to let you recruit Jowan?"

"Yes." She gave him a relieved smile. "Thank you. I've never discussed this with anyone.

"I'd prefer Anders not know," she continued. "I don't want him to blame himself. It's not his fault Rylock was such a bitch or that Greagoir refuses to see it. I don't know if he and Jowan were friends, but if they were and this doesn't work out..."

Nate nodded.

A few minutes later, Anders entered the tavern with his arms full of packages. His eyes scanned the room and, when they met Nate's, the mage smiled. Nate was drawn to the side of the handsome, grinning man and helped him carry the supplies up to their room.

"Is it our time, yet?" Anders purred when they were alone.

Nate could not help but smile. Now that he had surrendered to his desires, he could allow himself to be flattered the mage was so eager to take him as a lover.

"Not yet, Anders, but soon. I promise." He appreciated the mage's little pout.

He let Anders steal a long kiss before they returned to the common room to eat.

They both reported to Aleesa, and she seemed pleased with their progress.

"Have another drink, lads. You've earned the afternoon off."

Anders looked at Nate with a lecherous grin and an eyebrow cocked in question. He gave the mage a smile and a little nod, and he promptly felt clever fingers on his thigh.

"The afternoon is yours," Aleesa continued, "but I have dinner plans for us. It would be good for the local nobles to see the Wardens and the Howes make nice."

She looked at Nate and he nodded his understanding.

"We'll be dining at a central table at the Regal Swan Tavern. If we're lucky, people will gossip on their own and leave us alone. I want you both dressed for the occasion," she added as she got up from the table, "no robes, no armour, no staves, no bows. Enjoy your afternoon, but be scrubbed pink and dressed in silk by dusk."

o o o

Nate asked the innkeeper to set up a bath in their room. He knew Anders would happily go straight to the room, but he wanted to take his time. He did not enter any type of relationship lightly, and he was loathe to rush it.

Furthermore, taking his time made a point to Anders. He was pretty sure the mage understood this was to be more than sex, but it never hurt to emphasise an important point.

He and Anders talked and finished their drinks while they waited for their bath.

"The Regal Swan, huh?" Anders rolled his eyes. "Even the name sounds painfully stuffy."

"It is painful," Nate assured him. "I usually avoid the place, but Aleesa has a good point. There are nobles who resent the removal of the Howes and nobles who welcomed the Wardens with open arms. If we want to unite the local nobility, we need to convince them that the Howes and the Wardens are unified." He thought about the local nobles and the various things they thought about topics including himself. "Selfishly, I just want people to see that I am not my Warden-hating father," he added.

"You are not your father at all," Anders said, and Nate was grateful for that simple sentence.

They watched the innkeeper and two of his staff carrying buckets of water and a sizeable tub up the stairs to their room. The tub looked just big enough to fit two grown men. Nate smiled in anticipation.

In their room, the fire in the hearth was crackling. In front of it sat the filled tub and a bench with soap and towels.

Both men stripped quickly, but Nate was faster and was first into the tub. The mage stepped in gingerly, curling up in arms strengthened by a lifetime with a longbow. They enjoyed the feel of the warm water around them, as they watched the movements of the fire.

Nate still could not believe how things had changed between them that day. It felt right to have Anders in his arms. The mage seemed calmer and less guarded than usual. Downstairs, he had come out from behind his shield of jokes and they had been able to talk the way Nate had always wanted.

Nate picked up the soap and began lathering the man in his arms. He caressed smooth back and arms before moving his hands across chest, down stomach, and into the water. He reached down the mage's shins and worked his way up toned legs. As he ran his hands along inner thigh, he heard the mage's breathing change. He abandoned the soap.

He wrapped a hand around Anders' growing erection and began stroking. Anders dropped his head back and Nate placed gentle kisses on the exposed neck.

Nate started a painfully slow pace with his hand, and the mage bucked his hips in frustration. The bowman relented and began to stroke faster. He traced the mage's ear with his tongue before darting inside. He nibbled down ear and neck, sucking and kissing between bites. His free hand explored Anders' body.

Anders' hips were pressing forward against the stroking hand and his breath became jagged as he neared his climax. His whole body trembled and shook as he released.

Fully spent, he collapsed back into the larger man's embrace, resting his head on brawny chest and shoulder.

"I guess that will supplement the herbs and oils in the water," the bowman teased.

Feeling Anders' body tighten, Nate gave him a reassuring squeeze and gently kissed the top of his head.

"I like the idea of carrying your scent," he whispered huskily, his breath tickling the mage's ear.

Anders turned and traced the lines of Nate's chest with his fingertips. Tips became short nails and lips were added. His lips reached nipple and he flicked his tongue and gently bit the bud.

Nate ground his hips forward against Anders' hip, increasingly frustrated by the way he was pinned in the too-small tub.

"I need to get you out of this tub and onto a bed," he whispered in the mage's ear. He was surprised by the need in his own voice.

Anders turned as far as the tub allowed to show his grin. "Eager?" he purred.

"I think you know." He pressed his erection against the man's back again for emphasis.

"Good to know." Anders' tone was playful, almost wicked. "Of course, duty first and all that. 'Scrubbed pink and dressed in silk', remember? Soooo much to do. I'm afraid you'll have to wait."

"Revenge for this morning. Cute." He was oddly amused by Anders' mocking imitation of his own sense of duty.

Anders stood and stretched dramatically, displaying his exquisite form for Nate's benefit. He was surprisingly toned for how lean he was. His shoulders were broad and his arms were muscular, although far less bulky than the bowman's own. The mage's body tightened into a flat stomach and slim hips before meeting firm buttocks and long, sculpted legs. Nate was transfixed.

Anders dipped one of the buckets in the warm soapy water and poured it over himself. Nate watched greedily as the suds ran the length of the man's youthful figure.

The mage pushed a wet lock of blond hair from his face and grinned at the need Nate knew showed on his face. Stepping from the tub, Anders picked up a towel and began to dry himself. He rubbed down his wet skin, turning it from light honey to pink. Nate quickly finished scrubbing himself clean.

"Well I guess I don't need to get dressed juuuust yet." Anders teased coyly. "I gueeeess I should wait until my hair is dry. It wouldn't do to drip on my only silk shirt." He pulled the bench in front of the fire and basked in the warmth.

As Nate reached for a towel, he tried to imagine Anders in the silk doublet and hosen he had brought. He had never seen the mage dressed in anything other than his mage robes or a smock and braies for sleeping.

His mind went back to a question he had posed to the mage when the two had only just met. He had asked whether Anders wore robes on the run from the Circle. Anders had deflected the question with his usual snide humour. Nate had later asked how the Templars always found Anders, but again Anders offered nonsense instead of information.

"_He can be a royal pain when he wants to_," Nate mused, half annoyed, half smitten.

But that was months ago. They had been strangers and Anders had had no reason to trust him. That was before they had fought together and saved each other's life, before they had shared drinks and meals and long treks through the countryside. And that was long before they had shared passionate kisses and a warm bath. Things were different now.

Nate joined Anders on the bench and the mage nuzzled into his neck.

"Anders?"

"Mmm"

"Why _did_ you keep dressing like a mage when you would escape from the Circle? Surely any farmer or merchant would have recognised what you were and reported you."

Anders was silent and still. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold and detached. "They were going to find me anyway. Like I said before," his voice changed to a mocking tone, "I like to make it easy for them." He wore a fake smile.

The flippant response stung Nate. It felt as if a wall had arisen between them in a matter of a few words.

"But how did they find you?" he asked, desperate for some sign of honesty or trust. "And don't give me that bullshit about how they take women now and they ask for directions." Nate could feel his patience slipping away.

"They just did. I don't want to talk about it." The mage's voice was biting and annoyed.

Nate rested his head in his hands and let out a deep sigh. All of his hope of Anders being different bled away. Why had he fooled himself into thinking Anders saw him as anything more than just another man to be used for pleasure and then tossed aside? Why had he thought Anders actually trusted or cared about him?

He tried to collect himself as he looked at Anders, but he could not keep the sadness and disappointment out of his voice.

"I still don't get in, do I?"

The mage visibly bristled further.

"All I said is that I don't want to talk about the sodding Templars." Anders said curtly.

Then his features softened and he began to rub Nate's thigh with his hand. "Talking wasn't really what I had in mind anyway." He was purring as his hand travelled to the top of Nate's thigh.

Nate gasped and stood up. He could not be there any longer. It hurt too much. He walked away from the fire, away from Anders, and began to dress in the corner.

"If you're just looking for a fuck," he said without turning around, "why don't you stay here tonight?" His voice filled with his hurt and anger. "I'm sure you can find someone who will fuck you without even bothering you for a name. I'll sleep on Aleesa's floor. You can have the room."

"Nate?" Anders' voice was soft and gentle, but it was nowhere near enough to make him stay.

"This was a bad idea. I thought..." He could not bring himself to confess the foolish things he had thought, _hoped_. Fully dressed, he crossed to the door.

"I'll see you downstairs," was all he managed, before he closed the door behind himself and went straight to the bar.

o o o

Nate nursed the same mug of ale for the rest of the afternoon. He wanted to drink more, to take himself into oblivion, but he could not force himself to swallow. He could barely make himself breathe.

He replayed the same scene over and over again in his mind. He was angry with the mage for refusing to answer his questions and angry with himself for handling it so poorly.

He hated the way he talked to Anders. A cutting retort while walking away was his father's signature move, and Nate had been on the receiving end of it throughout his childhood. Nate had made a point of being one to stay and talk, of being different.

Yet, when it mattered most, he became his father again. Why Anders? Why only with Anders did he become the worst in himself? Nate stopped his wondering there. He was afraid of the answer. He was afraid of the mage and the feelings he had for him. Most of all, he was afraid that those feelings would never, could never, be returned.

o o o

Just before dusk, Aleesa came down to the bar. She was fussing with her dress and did not seem to notice Nate's dark mood.

"Anders still not ready?" she asked.

Nate was spared answering, as the mage appeared on the stairs. He was wearing a robe.

Hope that Nate had not realised he still clung to shattered in his chest. The mage would stay here; he would find someone else.

Aleesa raised an eyebrow in question, and Nate looked away before she could see the hurt he was struggling to hide.

"I thought I'd let the nobles take on the noble bar alone," Anders explained. "You kids have fun." His tone was light and it mocked Nate's hurt.

"That's probably better," Nate's replied with venom, "you don't belong in a nobles' tavern anyway." Anders' smile faltered briefly at the remark, and Nate felt a mix of shame and satisfaction.

He could feel Aleesa's glare, but he would not meet her eye.

"Fine," she said, turning back to Anders. "But stay here. I want to know where to find you if I need you."

"Yeeees, Mother."

Aleesa's eyes flashed and Anders issued a quick apology.

"Whatever is going on, take tonight to figure it out." The order was given to Anders, but Nate knew it was meant for him as well.

o o o o o o o o o


	13. Ch 13 Appearances

My deep thanks to Kelcat to beta-ing this thing.

Love and gratitude to my readers, especially those who are re-reading the revisions!

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><p>o o o o o o o o o<p>

"The point of this appearance was to show that the Howes and the Wardens can be friends. It undermines the message if you look completely miserable in my company."

Nate looked up from the same pea he had been pushing around his plate for five minutes. "What?" Aleesa raised a brow in irritation. "Oh. Sorry. I'm...distracted."

"I know. And it's affecting your duties, so as Commander I get to butt in." Her irritation softened into concern. "Today, the two of you went up to your room grinning like small children with candy. What in the Maker's name happened?"

"I don't know if telling you will make it worse, if he'll be angry." What did it matter? Anders had moved on already. He was on the prowl back at their inn even as the nobles sat and talked. And what was there to move on from, anyway? It had ended before it started.

"If you were worried about making him angry, mocking him for his lowly social status was probably not a great move," Aleesa said.

Nate prickled. He did not need Aleesa to point out his mistakes to him. "I know. It was a stupid thing to say. I was just...angry."

"You were hurt. And you wanted him to be too," Aleesa interpreted.

"No. I wanted to think that I was _able_ to hurt him, that he even _cares_." Nate briefly thought about the way Anders' smile had faltered, but shoved the thought away before it could give rise to more false hope.

"Will you tell me what happened?" His friend looked genuinely concerned.

Nate was bothered by her prying; then he laughed bitterly. "I want to say that it doesn't matter and I don't want to talk about it, but that's exactly what he said that upset me in the first place."

"Didn't want to talk about what?" she pushed.

Nate finally related the conversation. "I thought we were closer now...that he'd talk to me."

Aleesa nodded sympathetically. "Well I can answer the question he won't, but that's only half the solution."

Nate was surprised, and it must have shown on his face. Aleesa laughed. "I married a trained Templar. I know how they hunt mages." She explained about phylacteries, complete with a snide remark about Templar hypocrisy in using what is essentially blood magic.

"Also," she went on, "Anders said that they always sent the same Templar. I assume he meant Rylock. It would take more than a costume change for her not to recognize him."

They sat in silence while Nate tried to imagine someone being able to use his own blood to find him anywhere in Thedas. He thought about Rylock and how cruel she had seemed. He could not imagine that woman having control over him. To say that he would hate it would be a gross understatement.

"Do you remember Wynne?" Aleesa's voice interrupted his thoughts again. "The mage I used to travel with? We ran into her outside the Chantry some time back when she wanted us to find her plant-loving friend."

"I remember her."

"I sent the rest of you off on some task, so I could speak to her in private. I asked her about Anders. She hadn't been at the Tower in a while, but she knew who he was. She provided some insight." She paused to ensure Nathaniel was listening. He gave a little nod.

"He was known as a playboy," she began. Nate gave a bitter laugh, and Aleesa glared at him for the interruption.

"But despite being sexually popular, he had few real friends. He was viewed as a troublemaker who made things harder for the other mages. She said outside exercise was permanently cancelled after Anders dove into the lake and swam away. Many mages resented him for things like that, or they simply avoided him for fear the Templars would consider them trouble as well."

"Guilt by association." His tone was gentler now. Anders' constant references to his trysts in the Tower had fooled Nate into assuming the mage was well-liked in general.

"Exactly."

Nate processed her words. He realised that Anders was much the same way at Vigil's Keep. The servants and soldiers were more than happy to visit the mage for a good time, but Nate doubted that Anders actually confided in any of them.

Anders was friendly with his fellow Wardens, but Nate knew full well that those conversations were kept light-hearted. "_His closest friend is that sodding cat!_" he realised. "_Of course Anders would choose a confidant who cannot challenge or pry._"

"_Or judge._" he had to add. He thought of some of the things he had said to Anders and felt ashamed.

Nate then thought about his letters and visits with his sister, and conversations like this one with Aleesa. He could not imagine living without anyone to whom he could reveal his thoughts. He looked up at his friend's face and saw indecision and hesitation.

"Just tell me, Aleesa."

"Wynne also talked about solitary confinement. She said that after his third escape, they started sending him to solitary. He told me once that he did a year after his sixth escape."

"A year? He was locked away by himself for a year?" Nate thought about the few days he had spent in the cell at Vigil's Keep before his conscription. He could not imagine an entire year of being trapped and confined.

"I'm not sure if the 'by himself' part is the worst of it..." Aleesa was looking nervous as she continued.

"Wynne kind of talked around it. She hates speaking ill of the Circle. But she said something about the kinds of Templars who signed up for shifts in solitary. I got the feeling that some of the Templars may have...abused their power."

Nate's stomach began to feel uneasy as she spoke.

"Apparently there is little oversight down there. It's just some cells in the basement and there is usually only one mage at a time. Maybe I'm being morbid, maybe it's nothing, but I really hate the thought of a lone mage being left to the mercy of a Templar guard with no oversight."

Nate's imagination began to conjure images, and he felt nauseated. The mere possibility of Anders suffering such injustices made his blood boil such that he knew his cheeks were flushed under his pale skin. And then he remembered the way he himself had treated Anders only a couple of hours before, and he was suddenly cold.

"Sometimes we don't want to talk about things," Aleesa said gently, "because we don't want to remember them. It may have nothing to do with whether he trusts or cares for you."

Nate had plenty to think about as they finished their meal in silence. He forced himself to eat, although he had no appetite.

o o o

As they neared The Crown and Lion, Nate's pace slowed until he had stopped just in sight of the door. Aleesa raised an eyebrow in question.

"Remember how I told Anders to find someone else and use the room?"

"Which is not at all what you really want."

"I know, I know," he said testily. He had regret enough without her nagging. "But that doesn't mean it's not what _he_ wants. I'm just... it's still early...what if he's in the stage before the room?"

"You don't want to walk in and see it."

He flinched.

"I'll be right back." She walked to the door and stepped inside. She was gone for several minutes, and his mind filled with multiple scenarios. Most of them started with her walking in to find Anders in the passionate embrace of a handsome man.

Aleesa reappeared in the dark street and walked over to him. As she neared, he saw that she was smiling.

"I just wanted to say 'goodnight'." She gave him a hug and a warm smile before turning to walk back to the tavern.

"Wait! What -?"

"Just come inside, and watch what you say this time," she said casually over her shoulder.

He was annoyed by the feeling that she was amused by his situation. He stepped into the inn and saw the flick of Aleesa's skirt as she retreated to her room on the floor above. He took in the entire room, including the familiar form of Anders sitting at a small table by the stairs.

He was alone!

Their eyes met, and they shared an awkward smile. It was all the invitation Nate needed. He sat down across from the mage and struggled to find a starting point.

"Did Aleesa talk to you?" he finally asked.

"She said, 'He's sorry, he cares about you, and neither of you will ever find a better man, so don't fuck this up.'" Anders' tone was dry. "It's such a shame that Mother Hen will never have chicks of her own."

Nate barked a laugh. "But she _does_ have her own chicks. And with each Joining, she gets more."

The mage rolled his eyes, before Nate continued softly.

"It's true though. I am sorry, for prying, for getting angry, and for the stupid, mean things I said."

Anders gave a little smile. Then his impossibly soft hands picked up one of Nate's calloused ones, and he gently kissed the back.

"I was furious when you left," Anders started with a weary voice and a warning in his eyes, "and determined to follow your suggestion. I went straight to the bar and was excited when one of those guards started flirting with me."

He nodded toward a group of city guards sitting near the bar, but Nate did not need to look. He had already noticed the guard with short brown hair and bright blue eyes who rarely took his eyes from the mage. Nate had also noticed that the man was strikingly handsome. Jealousy rose in his chest, but he reminded himself that Anders was sitting with him and not the guard.

"He _is_ quite a looker," Anders mused with an impish grin and a glance at the guard. Nate felt his stomach twist. "But..." Anders smiled faltered, "I kept thinking how his hair should be darker...longer; his eyes should be...greyer; his voice should..." Anders seemed to run out of words.

The mage sighed. "I thought about how you would feel when you found out. I thought maybe you wouldn't care, or maybe you'd get angry and call me names..."

Nate winced at the reference to his prior insults. He was not proud of himself.

"But then I thought maybe...you'd be...hurt."

The bowman nodded his head, barely breathing as he waited for the mage to continue.

"I realised that I was angry with you, but...I didn't really want to _hurt_ you..."

Nate's eyes pricked with emotion. He lifted one of Anders' hands to his lips and kissed the back, just as the mage had done for him.

"Thank you," he managed, although the two words felt inadequate.

Relief flooded his chest as the haunting images of Anders with someone else faded away. He was still surprised at the intensity of his own jealousy. And he was scared by it, given the mage's history.

"So I ordered some of their sodding terrible tea," Anders continued, "and sat to wait for you. I wanted you to see that I am sober and alone. I'm not used to those things mattering, but I can tell they matter to you."

Nate nodded, gratitude in his eyes.

"And I'll even tell you how the blighted Templars find me."

Nate shook his head. "Aleesa explained. She told me...a lot of things. I'd never considered that you might be avoiding my questions because you didn't want to think about it. I'd always just thought that you didn't trust me."

"Sometimes it's not wanting to think about it," Anders agreed. "Sometimes it's having trouble believing that you, that anyone, would really care." He paused before giving a friendly glare and adding: "It's not easy for me to talk like this, so I hope you bloody appreciate it."

"I do," Nate said with a dry smile.

"I figured I'd give it a try." The mage's playful vitality was returning to his face and voice. "If I'd just told you about the blighted Templars when you asked, we would have had a much more...invigorating afternoon." He gave a flirty grin and winked.

"I missed you at dinner. I kept thinking about -" Soft fingertips at his lips cut Nate off.

"Let's say all is forgiven and move along. We've done more than enough talking and I've waited all day to have my way with you."

Anders took the other man by the hand and led him to their room.

o o o

As Nate turned the key to lock their door, he felt hot breath and firm kisses on the back of his neck. Anders' hands travelled from his shoulders to his hips and then around his waist. Nate rotated in the mage's arms, lifted his chin, and examined his features. He could not believe that this handsome man had chosen him. Even when Nate had shoved him away with hurtful words, the mage had waited for him. Perhaps all of his hopes were not so false after all. His chest and stomach filled with warmth.

He kissed Anders firmly on the lips, and when the mage's lips parted, the bowman plundered his mouth with his tongue. His hands ran through silky blond hair, which he pulled loose of its tie. He caressed the mage's ears and neck and jaw, smiling against Anders' lips as he savoured each sensation.

Anders' hands were unlacing Nate's breeches.

The mage kissed his way up Nate's jawline and tugged on his earlobe with his teeth. Nate pulled back to look at the amber-brown eyes that warmed his stomach, but Anders suddenly dropped to his knees in front of him.

Smooth, long fingers slipped into Nate's loosened breeches and freed his growing erection. He felt Anders' hands on his hips before a clever tongue ran along his length. The tongue teased and swirled along his tip, and then he felt himself enveloped in a warm, wet mouth. He groaned at the sensation of being sucked on so eagerly, and his fingers tightened amongst the mage's soft hair.

Nate looked down at his lover, willing a glance up, a glimpse of those amber eyes. But Anders did not look up. Nate stroked blond hair back and could see Anders frowning in concentration.

"Anders," he called softly.

The mage continued with his task.

Nate's body was torn between the heat in his groin and a gnawing feeling growing in his stomach. He was enjoying how Anders was making him feel, but he needed it to be something they were sharing. He wanted to see his mage, to press against him and feel the heat of his body. He wanted to make Anders moan with pleasure, to share his pleasure.

"Anders," he gasped, "I want...I want you..." He could not make his mind form a sentence while at the mercy of the other man's mouth.

Nate felt Anders flick his tongue along his erection as he slowly released it from his mouth. Then the mage looked up and gave him the glimpse of amber eyes he so desperately craved. Nate smiled.

Instead of standing, Anders turned in place onto hands and knees. He lowered his head to his hands and lifted his hips high in the air. He flipped up his own robes, and they slid up his back until they covered most of his head.

Nate pressed back against the wall, unnerved. All that was visible of the mage was smooth back, slim hips, and firm buttocks. He could be anyone, man or woman. He was an offering of submission, a body for whom the user could imagine any face, or none at all. The mage was silent and trembled slightly in anticipation.

Was this what Anders wanted: to be a faceless arse, fucked on the floor, by an equally-faceless cock? Or was this what he thought Nate wanted? Did he think Nate was some monster who wanted nothing more than to spill his seed as quickly as possible? His stomach twisted at the possibility that Anders might think such of him.

No, not after that afternoon. Anders knew Nate wanted more than a quick fuck. But, then why was he offering himself like a whore?

"_Perhaps this is all he knows_."

Unbidden came the thought of Templars without supervision. Nate imagined Anders alone in a cell, poised as he was, with a Templar approaching like a wolf. He forced himself from those thoughts before the Templar could act out the stories he had heard soldiers tell with cruel pride about their more vicious exploits with prisoners and whores.

His face was flushed with anger and his breathing grew ragged. Anders either did not notice or mistook the change in breathing for arousal.

"Stretch me first...please." The mage's voice was soft, but Nate heard the edge of pleading. "_A plea not always heeded. One he is hesitant to even make..."_

The anger and pain swelled within Nate until his eyes began to tear and his stomach fought with what he had forced himself to eat at dinner. His legs grew weak and he slid down the wall behind him to the floor. All arousal had left his body.

Anders sat back on his heels and looked over his shoulder.

"Nate! What's wrong? What did I do?"

Nate shook his head sadly. "You didn't do anything. Please. Please come here."

Anders crawled over and Nate engulfed him in strong, protective arms. He settled the mage into his lap and began stroking his hair softly with one hand. The other arm kept Anders pressed to his chest. He felt the mage nuzzle him comfortingly, and he kissed him gently on the head.

"You will never go back," he growled, speaking as much to himself as to Anders. "They will never touch you again." His voice was cold gravel.

Anders pulled away enough to look up at him. Large amber eyes were full of question and concern, and the sight of them filled Nate with a torrent of emotion. He kissed the mage gently on the brow.

"Remember when you wanted to kiss my troubles away?" Nate asked in a choked voice. "Now it's my turn."

Anders kissed him lightly on the lips.

"What troubles?" the mage asked with a reassuring smile. Nate did his best to return it.

o o o o o o o o o


	14. Ch 14 Spoiled

Thank you, Kelcat, for making me really think and get into the boys' heads!

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><p>o o o o o o o o o<p>

Anders nuzzled his pillow, only to realise that his head was resting on a broad, muscular chest. He and Nate were no longer clothed or sitting on the floor. He vaguely remembered being carried, half-asleep, to the bed in the able arms of the bowman. He remembered hearing soft curses as Nate had struggled with the ties of his robes. Other than that, he remembered only a feeling of safety and warmth as he fell into a deep, restful sleep.

Anders lifted his head and found Nate's steel grey eyes watching him. He offered the archer a drowsy smile and was repaid with a genuinely happy one.

"You're in a better mood," Anders mumbled sleepily.

"I have a plan."

Anders cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. "A plan for what?"

"You'll see," came the playful reply.

o o o

Nate slipped out from under the mage and laid on top of him. He was careful to keep much of his weight on his own strong arms. He nibbled at Anders' ear, teasing inside with his tongue. Anders purred.

Teeth pulled on earlobe and nibbled down the mage's throat. Soft kisses worked from collarbone to nipple. He sucked on the nipple and flicked it with his tongue as his forefinger and thumb worked its pair.

Anders was groaning in delight.

Short fingernails dragged down the mage's sides as eager lips found the happy trail of hair that led from tight stomach to growing erection. Nate kissed and sucked at the mage's inner thigh, his hands massaging Anders' arse.

Anders thrust his hips in invitation and Nate did not deny him. He ran his tongue to the end of Anders' length and took the tip into his mouth. He sucked on the sensitive skin as he slowly took more and more into his mouth. When his lips hit the hilt, Anders let out a groan of satisfaction.

Nate pulled back slowly before plunging down on the mage again. His next withdrawal was even slower before he rushed back to the hilt. Anders shuddered with pleasure, and Nate smiled around him.

Soon Nate relented, setting a pace that had Anders moaning and gasping. His hand stroked stomach and thigh, occasionally joining the rhythm of his mouth. His eyes watched Anders' face. As his lover reached the edge, Nate very slowly pulled away, sucking hard as he went. Anders came into his mouth and he kept sucking until he held only the tip and was swallowing the last of his lover's seed.

Anders let out a final moan as his whole body seemed to sink into the mattress beneath him.

Nate let his hot breath tickle from groin to stomach, where he changed to soft kisses until he reached collarbone. He placed his elbow next to Anders' head and rested his head on his palm as he moved to lie next to the mage. He watched Anders' face as it revelled in pleasure and release.

If the mage did not understand what sex could be, what it could _mean_, Nate would simply have to teach him.

o o o

Anders slowly came back to himself. The bowman's mouth had shattered him and it took time to reassemble the pieces. When he dared to open his eyes, he saw steel grey ones watching him tenderly. He could not help but smile.

This was what he needed. After the day before, with its angry, hurtful words and Nate's sudden loss of interest in him, Anders needed to see fondness in the other man's eyes. He had expected them to fall into bed as soon as Nate had given in to his advances, but the noble kept stopping them. Did the man want him or not?

He had no idea where he stood. In the Tower, if two people wanted each other, they would find a little corner and fuck. If the sex was good, they would probably do it again. It was simple, clear and easy.

Nate _seemed_ to want him. The noble's body showed arousal, and his actions showed interest. He had even acted jealous and possessive the night before. Yet, when Nate was given the chance to actually have him, the bowman had fallen apart. Anders was left confused and, he was reluctant to admit, more than a little hurt.

Anders shifted onto his side and started kissing Nate's neck. He moved to kissing the bowman's collarbone, but when he tried to shift down further, solid arms prevented him. He looked up in confusion and Nate kissed his brow. Anders again tried to move down the other man, but was pulled up into a kiss.

"Don't I get to return the favour?" Anders asked when his mouth was released.

"No." The bowman was giving him a happy smile.

"But-"

"It's not a trade. You owe me nothing." Nate kissed him deeply before climbing out of bed. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Stay in bed." The noble pulled on breeches, boots, and a smock and slipped out the door.

Anders was feeling more than a little frustrated. Why was Nate so reluctant to finish consummating their relationship?

Several minutes later, Nate returned with a large wooden tray.

"I couldn't carry the coffee; I'll have to go back for it. Go ahead and start." He set the tray on the bed and disappeared out the door again.

Anders looked at the tray. There were plates piled high with sausages, eggs, toast, and pancakes. Little jugs held jam, butter, and syrup. Nate brought him breakfast in bed? He would have expected the bowman to tsk at the impracticality of eating without a solid surface or to bemoan the risk of syrup spilling on the sheets. What was going on?

Nate returned with another tray and set it on the table. He prepared two cups of coffee and carried them to the bed.

"Your not eating." His voice was disappointed.

"You know it's not my birthday, right?" Anders was struggling to find an explanation for the bowman's peculiar behaviour.

"I know."

"Did something happen to Ser Pounce-a-lot?"

"What? How would I know? You left that cat back at the Keep."

"Then what's all this about? What's going on?" Anders had enough of feeling out of his depths. He wanted Nate to fuck him, already, so he would know where they stood.

"Nothing is going on!" Nate looked hurt and frustrated. "I just wanted to spoil you a little, show you how you _should_ be treated."

Anders studied Nate's face. Whatever was upsetting the man, it was significant and it was not going to go away without some understanding on both of their parts. "Does this have to do with last night, when you got upset?" Anders asked.

A nod.

Anders sighed. "I never thought _I'd_ be the one to say this, but I think we should talk."

Nate laughed. "I never thought I'd hear you say that either."

"What happened last night?" Anders prodded.

Nate seemed to struggle to find his words as he hesitantly began.

"Last night, I started thinking about...the Circle Tower...and the Templars." He paused before saying, "I suspect that you have not always been treated the way you deserve."

Anders felt his body grow cold. When he did not speak, Nate continued.

"I don't want to bring up painful memories. I don't want the Templars to ruin one more moment of your life. But the thought of it upset me. I hate knowing that you've been...hurt. It makes me so angry. I want to storm the Tower and start slaughtering Templars. And I know that won't end well."

"Ha. You might be a little outnumbered." Anders said mirthlessly. "Besides, they don't _all_ deserve to be slaughtered." He was surprised to hear himself say that, but his mind had turned to lenient, silly Carroll who only ever wanted to live vicariously through Anders' tales of adventure and indulgence.

Anders sighed and ran his hand over his face. He really did not want to think or talk about Templars, but Nate seemed to press the issue time and again. The closer the two of them became, the more Nate questioned and the more upset he got when Anders refused to talk. Anders did not understand Nate's interest, but he was starting to believe that it might be easier to simply indulge the man and tell his tale.

"When you served in the Free Marches," Anders began, "you must have met all sorts of soldiers. Why were they there?"

"They came for various reasons. Some hoped to prove themselves, other had been sent there. Some needed the coin, and others wanted the training."

Anders nodded. "Exactly. It's the same with the Templars in the Tower. Some really thought they were serving the Maker and protecting the people of Ferelden. Some just needed the coin or were sent there against their will. And there were some who got off on having power over the mages." He said the last with disgust.

"Most of the Templars were at least civil. They might make a disparaging comment or two, but they really only offended through their constant presence and watchful eyes. In fact, most mages don't have the honour of meeting the really...colourful Templars. I just happen to be lucky." His kept his tone calm, although he could not prevent the bitterness.

"You see, the punishment for escape is solitary confinement. The more times I escaped, the longer my stay in solitary once I returned. Irving got me out of serving after my first two escapes, because I was still so young. But after the third, there was nothing he could do. He'd warned me of that, but I ran anyway."

Anders was surprised at how easily his words were coming.

"They always sent Rylock, the bitch who ambushed us in the warehouse. Usually she'd have some others with her in the hunting party. By my seventh capture, I was up to four Templars." He allowed himself a little perverse pride in that.

"There were three of them on the third capture, and they seemed to take the whole thing rather personally. They all volunteered to serve solitary duty once we returned. When they are all together, they behave themselves. They don't trust each other not to report them if they go too far. But once they have you in the cell, there are no witnesses." Anders fought to keep the memories at bay as he spoke. "Any investigation would be the testimony of the Templar against the claims of a repeat escapee and troublemaker."

Anders was not sure how much to tell, but while his words were flowing he chose to continue.

"One of the three wasn't so bad. He was one of the ones who really bought the whole Chantry tale. He mainly just told me how evil I was and how I wasn't worth the gruel they fed me. The other two were more...hands on." He cursed himself for the shudder that ran through his body.

"Rylock believed in purification through pain. She wouldn't let me eat or sleep. She'd whip my back until the blood stained the floor and then she'd have me use all my mana to heal the wounds so she could start over. I almost always passed out before the end of her shifts. I enjoyed watching Aleesa run her through." He allowed himself a pause to relish the memory of the life leaving the Templar's cruel eyes.

"Biff-Biffon-was the third. He had a little crush on me and couldn't find a healthy way to deal with it. In the beginning, he'd just stroke my hair, but he grew bolder. The further he went, the harder he beat me at the end. You see, he thought I was using magic to make him want me. I learned that playing along was easier than resisting. I would 'seduce' him, against his honourable will, of course. When he was done I would do my best evil laugh and confess to using dark magic on him. He'd call me some foul names and run from the cell to escape my evil. The charade let me avoid the beating entirely."

"But he still used you!" Nate's voice rang with indignation.

"Yeah, but that was going to happen either way. I could fight it, in which case he'd be rough and then beat me, or I could play along. Sometimes, I played the part so well I almost convinced myself it was what I wanted. And, if I were good with my hands, I could keep him-" Anders' voice faltered at the memory. "I could keep him out of me.

"Sometimes other Templars took a turn in my hunting party. Most of them were pretty benign. I think they took the duty just to get out of the Tower. But there was one Templar," Anders' willed himself to continue without thinking, without remembering, "he was..."

_He shudders in his cold, lonely cell. He hears the heavy steps of the large man in plate armour. The clang of the keys in the lock and the squeak as the door swings open._

"Anders?" The concerned voice is far away.

"_Well if it isn't my favourite little cocksucker."_

_A harsh laugh followed by footsteps. He stares at the floor._

"_Shall we put that mouth of yours to work? Or should we start with a little...foreplay?"_

_He feels the gauntlet crash against the side of his face. A sob escapes his lips._

"Anders!" The same sweet voice, still too far away.

"_Uh, uh, uh...Did I tell you to cry?"_

_He trembles as he anticipates the next blow._

But it does not come. When he feels the powerful arms, they do not strike him. They embrace him. At first he fights, desperate to get away, to get free, but then he hears that voice again.

"Shhh. It's okay, Anders. No more talking." Nate is rocking him gently, running one hand over his hair and gently kissing the top of his head.

"You are _with me_. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you."

Anders lets out a ragged sigh before finally relaxing into the embrace.

They stayed like that for a while until Anders dared to look up. He saw the steel grey eyes full of concern and sorrow, but no judgement. Nate kissed him hard on the mouth. He parted his lips and invited the rogue's warm tongue in. He enjoyed the simple sensations of being held and Nate massaging his tongue against his own.

When they finally broke the kiss, Anders sat still for a moment as his mind caught up with him. He looked at the neglected tray on the edge of the bed.

"And this is...?"

"This is how you _should_ be treated," Nate explained. "This is what the sodding Templars would have done if they knew you and appreciated you as I do."

Anders had to laugh at the image of self-righteous Templars bringing trays of breakfast to his bed.

"I much prefer that it come from you," Anders said, offering a reassuring grin.

"I'd find that more believable," Nate prompted, "if you'd take a bite or two. Come on, it's probably still warm."

The bowman took some toast off the tray and smiled as Anders finally tucked into the pancakes.

o o o o o o o o o


	15. Ch 15 Reunion

o o o o o o o o o

"Don't let him spoil you _too_ much, Anders," Aleesa quipped over a document she was studying. "I still plan to give you orders and I expect them to be obeyed."

The two men returned the trays of breakfast and coffee to the innkeeper before joining the Commander. She set aside the documents and looked at them.

"If the lovebirds are ready to start their day, we have work to do."

"Don't play tough, Aleesa," Nate said. "We all know you're a hopeless romantic. You're probably enjoying this more than we are."

Aleesa laughed. "You know me too well."

"Not to mention what we put up with when Alistair was visiting," Anders added.

"Okay! I surrender!" She was smiling as she shook her head.

"Assignments. Nate, I want you to observe some more training sessions. You said you'd seen possible recruits for the Wardens. Follow up on them, and find out how much Guard-Commander Liam will hate us if we take them.

"Anders, I want you to visit the houses and refugee camps outside the city walls. I want to know about living conditions, health, crime, that sort of thing. I get to meet with merchants about how to bolster trade."

She gathered her documents and stood up. "Oh, and if you are efficient, you can have the afternoon off. But no late nights, we head back to the Keep at dawn."

o o o

Nate kissed Anders goodbye and hurried off to confirm his assessments from his last observation of the guards. If he could talk with Liam while he observed training, he could finish his assignment well before lunch. He planned to find Anders as soon as he was done. The last day or so had been so intense, he wanted to enjoy some leisure time with the mage. He imagined browsing the market stalls or strolling through the woods beyond the city walls.

Nate arrived at the training grounds and immediately noticed the handsome guard who had flirted with Anders the night before. He could hardly fault the guard for flirting with a man he himself found irresistible, but he still felt some relief when the guard slipped away from grounds. Perhaps he thought that Nate had come for him in a fit of jealousy.

Again, the same two guards stood out. One was too free-thinking to make a good guard. Everyone would be happier if he joined the Wardens. Liam agreed to let him go if Aleesa wanted him.

The other would be sorely missed by the guard. Nate could tell without asking that Liam also saw great potential in her and would object to her being recruited by the Wardens. Aleesa would have to decide if the need for a quality recruit outweighed the goodwill of the Guard-Commander.

Nate wrote the names and his notes on a scroll and left it with the innkeeper for Aleesa. Duty done, he went in search of Anders.

o o o

Nate's keen eyes spotted Anders from the city gate. He had come out of a house in the distance and was moving further from the city. Another form, a guard by the uniform, ran up to the mage. A moment later, both forms hurried further down the slope and out of sight.

The bowman filled with anxiety, and he ran amongst the houses until he reached the spot where he had lost sight of Anders. He had no reason to validate the level of his concern; perhaps the guard just needed magical assistance with a matter. Logic aside, his instincts told him something was very wrong.

He scanned the clusters of houses and makeshift tents for any sign of Anders or the guard. Finding none, he grabbed a man standing nearby.

"Did you see a mage? Tall, blond, green robe? He was with a City Guard." Nate was trying to appear calm, but failing. The man looked a bit nervous.

"Yes, Ser. They went that way." He pointed Nate down a dirt path flanked by makeshift shelters. Beyond the shelters was a field and then forest.

Nate searched the dirt for their tracks as he walked. He finally found Anders' trail and followed it carefully past the shelters and into the field beyond.

He was almost to the edge of the woods when he heard a shout from deep within the trees. He wanted to run forward, to help, but he knew better than to run blindly into a thick wood. He stayed with Anders' trail, looking for footprints and broken twigs to lead him to the mage.

In a small clearing, he found signs of a struggle. There were new footprints. "_A man in plate armour_." Scorch marks on a tree showed that a mage, almost certainly Anders, had cast a spell. At the far end of the clearing were drag marks. The footprints next to the marks were not Anders'. Panic rang in the rogue's ears as he followed the trail.

The trail led him to a cave on the side of a hill. Nate's bow and quiver were off his back. He tucked a few arrows in his belt and nocked one in the bow. He chose heavy arrows to make up for the close range the confined space would require.

Noiselessly, he crept into the cave. He was desperate to hurry, but years of training forced him to let his eyes adjust to the dark before proceeding. A few yards into the cave he could make out voices. As he advanced, he could distinguish two separate male speakers. "_The guard and the man in plate armour,_" Nate concluded. He strained his ears but could not make out individual words.

Light shone from within the cave and Nate could soon make out the scene. Two figures were standing over the still body of a third. The face of the third was hidden, but the green robes left no doubt that it was Anders. Nate prayed to the Maker the mage was unconscious and not dead.

The guard held the torch, and the light shone on his familiar face. Nate recognized the handsome guard who had flirted with Anders the night before. The other figure was equally surprising in that he wore a Templar uniform.

Nate swore in his head.

He wanted to put an arrow in both men, but Aleesa would demand a detailed explanation for why he killed a city guard and a Templar during their diplomatic visit to Amaranthine. He had not actually seen either man lay a hand on Anders.

Rashly killing the guard would be a minor matter, diplomatically. Guard-Commander Liam would trust Nate's judgement and honour his decision to protect his comrade.

Killing the Templar could have grave consequences.

If Knight-Commander Greagoir was already upset about the three Templars the Wardens killed before, he would be livid that Wardens had killed yet another of his men. Nate thought of the maleficar Aleesa hoped to save through goodwill. As much as he wanted to act, he needed to see if he could capture the Templar alive. If he did kill the man, he would need strong evidence of the man's intent.

Nate bit his lip hard and waited.

Finally, Anders stirred. "_Thank the Maker!_" Nate thought, his eyes tearing with relief.

His body tensed as he saw the Templar move closer to the mage. A foot encased in heavy plate kicked Anders, and the mage cried out in pain. Nate nearly released his arrow, but he knew a single kick would not satisfy the Knight-Commander. He hated waiting, but he did.

Anders stirred more, mumbling and cursing. He lifted his head and turned toward the Templar. He mumbled some comment of confusion and then his manner changed completely.

"You! No! NO!" Anders scurried backwards across the floor only to end up against the wall next to the feet of the guard. The mage seemed pinned in fear.

"You can't take me back! I'm a Warden now! King Alistair said..! Nate promised...!"

Nate's heart clench at the last words. Only that morning, he had promised to protect the mage. And that had been when Anders was facing memories. Now, in the face of a reality frightening enough to have the cocky mage near tears, Nate was leaving him to face it alone.

Surely, he was breaking his promise. Surely, he should intervene. But he thought of the consequences. Greagoir did not believe Rylock had intended to kill Anders, and one of her men had been pressing a sword into the mage's back. Nate did not know who this Templar was or what he might have planned for Anders. He needed more information.

He looked at Anders' face and the naked terror he saw there. He hoped Anders might forgive him with time.

The Templar was laughing. "Yes, yes. You escaped the Tower of Magi. I won't bring you back there. But that doesn't mean you've escaped me." His grin was cruel. "I told you, you are mine, and I don't let _anyone_ take what's mine. Not the Grey Wardens, not King Alistair, no one."

He stepped towards the mage, who in turn tried to push himself back into the wall of the cave. "If we can't have our fun in the Tower," the Templar continued, "we'll simply have to play here."

His face turned suddenly serious. "I was disappointed to hear that you declined my friend here." The Templar nodded toward the guard, but kept his gaze on Anders. "I hope you haven't forgotten your training."

Tremors ran along the mage's hands.

"If you've grown too insolent, I may have to break you again." A gruesome grin spread across the man's face. "Remember what fun we had the first time?"

A sob escaped Anders' lips.

"Do I need to break you again?"

The mage slowly shook his head, as the first tears ran down his face.

"I didn't hear you. Was that a 'yes'?"

"N-no...no..."

A gauntleted hand crashed down across the mage's face. "Is that how you answer your superiors?"

"No, Ser! No, Ser!"

"That's better. Now show me you remember the rest of your training. My friend here has been working hard and is in need of some release." The Templar finally took his eyes from the mage to issue a silent instruction to the guard.

The guard, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened up and wedged the torch into a crack in the cave's wall.

Even in the poor light, Nate could see Anders' eyes, wide with fright, fixed on the guard.

The guard began to unfasten his breastplate.

"No!" Anders cried horsely.

The guard ignored the mage and removed his armour, piece by piece. As each piece hit the ground, Anders grew more and more upset.

By the time the guard stood in breeches and a smock, the mage on the ground was overcome by tears.

When he spoke again, Anders' voice had turned to a pitiful plea. "Please, Ser, please..." Anders sat on his heels, hands clasped together as he begged through his sobs. "Please! You don't want me. I'm not worth it. Please, just let me go."

The Templar stepped forward. "You forget yourself, maggot!" He struck the back of the Anders' head with his gauntleted hand and the mage fell forward onto the hard stone floor. The Templar kicked his stomach. "Hips up, you filth!"

Anders trembled as he complied, resuming the position that had dismayed Nate the night before. The guard positioned himself behind the mage. He lifted the green robes, exposing Anders' hips and buttocks.

"Nothing underneath," the guard commented in amusement. "Perhaps he is more eager than he lets on."

"This one loves cock." The Templar's voice was a mixture of disgust and desire. "He just likes to be difficult."

Anders was sobbing and shaking, as the guard unlaced his own breeches and shoved them to his knees.

The sight of the guard reaching into his braies to free his erection brought Nate out of his paralysis.

The bowman had been struggling to believe what was unfolding before him and had barely even taken breath for several minutes. It felt so much like a dream, he had forgotten that he could move.

The guard's hand was still under the cloth, wrapped around his own length, when an arrow tore through his throat.

The Templar went into a defensive stance, eyes peering into the darkness that hid the archer. As he dropped down to grab his helm from the floor, an arrow sped through the air where his neck had been a breath before. The helm slammed down onto plated shoulders.

Once the Templar was fully armoured again, he found his voice.

"Show yourself coward! Who dares interrupt Templar business?"

"Templar business!" Nate's voice shook with his anger and disgust. "Is that what you call this?"

Anders sat up at the sound of his voice. "Nate?"

The mage looked around, his eyes resting on the dead guard.

"Come here, Anders. Get away from him." Nate tried his best to steady his voice, but his emotions were too strong.

The mage scurried toward the darkness, but a gauntlet closed around his ankle. He tripped and fell hard against the cave floor. The Templar stepped over the mage, holding the point of his sword to Anders' throat.

Nate nearly sobbed.

The Templar was fully plated but for the the tiny slit in his helm. Anders was fully exposed to the Templar's sword. Nate considered sending an arrow through the slit, but the consequences of missing were too grave.

"Let's talk," Nate offered.

The Templar roared with laughter. "Why in the Maker's name would I want to talk to you?"

Nate's mind raced. Deception and manipulation were not his usual tactics, and lies did not come readily to his lips. "I think we both know this situation has escalated to a place neither of us wants. You don't really want the mage dead, or you would have done it already. You want him back."

The Templar paused before speaking. "You must be the Warden James told me about. The one who messed things up last night." A gesture toward the dead guard clarified who James was. "He said the mage seemed quite devoted to you."

"Yes, I...claimed him. I don't like sharing my pets with the other Wardens," Nate bluffed. "But he never mentioned that he had another master."

"Come into the light." The Templar's tone reflected his distrust.

Nate sauntered forward casually. He held his bow to the side and set it and his quiver against the cave wall. He pulled the spare arrows from his belt and tossed them on the ground.

"Let's not do anything rash," he said lightly, showing his empty hands. "If the mage is yours, perhaps I can buy him from you. I am sure we can agree on a good price." If the Templar could be pacified, Nate could get Anders away without further bloodshed.

Nate was a patient man. If Greagoir did not punish this Templar adequately, Nate would simply wait until after the Jowan matter was resolved. His current concern was only to get Anders safely out of the cave.

He stepped forward and the Templar slammed him against the wall. The sword which had been inches from taking Ander's life was now held across the bowman's throat. Nate felt relief, even as the cold metal cut into his skin.

"You don't fool me!" the Templar bellowed. "I know a mage-lover as surely as I know a mage!"

Nate gasped in pain as the blade dug deeper and he found himself unable to breathe.

A hand pulled the Templar's helm back, blocking vision and exposing neck. In the same instant, an arrow plunged into the Templar's throat.

Nate used the distraction to push the blade from his bleeding throat, although there was now little strength left in the hands that had held it against him. Nate watched as the Templar slowly crumpled to the floor, gasping and choking on his own blood. Anders leaned over him and ripped the arrow out of his throat.

"You're not worth the arrow," the mage spat.

The two Wardens stood and watched the Templar until the twitching stopped. Anders stepped over the body and began collecting his staff and pack.

"Get your bow and arrows." The mage's tone was flat. "We should report back to Aleesa." He was disturbingly composed despite what had just occurred.

"Anders, don't you think we should -"

"No!" Anders' body shook, but he did not turn around. "I don't want to fucking talk! I want to get out of this shithole and hope the Maker swallows it!"

He marched out of the cave and Nate had no choice but to doggedly follow.

o o o o o o o o o


	16. Ch 16 Healing

o o o o o o o o o

They walked back to the city in total silence. Nate tried to catch Anders' eye, but the mage stared straight ahead, his face devoid of emotion. Finally Nate surrendered himself to simply walking beside the other man.

In the Crown and Lion, Aleesa was sitting at her usual table with her usual pile of documents. At the sight of them, she gathered the documents and led them up to her room.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking from Nate's bloody throat to the bruises that were beginning to show under the cuts on Anders' face.

"There is a dead city guard and a dead Templar in a cave in the woods outside the city," Anders reported without emotion. "We killed them after they attacked us."

"And why did they attack you?" Aleesa's face was a mix of disbelief and concern.

"The Templar was one of my old guards from the Tower. He missed me." The mage's tone was mockingly cheerful. "The guard was his friend."

Aleesa studied Anders incredulously before leaving the room. She was back a few minutes later.

"The innkeeper is bringing up a bath for you, Anders. Do you want company or would you rather be alone?"

"I hardly think I am so dirty that -"

"It's an order," she said firmly.

"Fine," the mage replied petulantly. "I can handle bathing by myself." He turned and left the room without another word.

Aleesa turned to Nate with eyes full of concern. "What happened?"

"The guard lured him into the woods where the Templar was waiting. I followed their trail to a cave. Anders was unconscious. The Templar clearly had a...rich history with Anders."

Nate's memory returned him to the cave. "Maker! You should have seen Anders when he recognised the monster. He was shaking...crying...I've never seen him so upset!"

He shook his head, pulling back from the memory.

"The Templar told him how he didn't intend to let him go, even if the Tower had. He hit and kicked him wearing full plate. He told his friend...the guard..." He lost his voice.

"Take your time," Aleesa said softly. "Here, sit."

Nate sat down and took a deep breath before continuing.

"I shot the guard in the throat. As he was...preparing to...rape Anders."

He took a couple more breaths before continuing.

"The Templar put up more of a fight. He got me against the wall with his sword," he gestured to the dried blood on his throat. "Anders pulled his helm up and stabbed him in the throat with an arrow. Then he gathered up his stuff and headed back here as though _nothing_ had happened!"

Aleesa nodded. "I can't imagine what he's going through right now..."

Nate had hoped that relaying the events would bring some solace, but he knew he was holding back his confession.

"I waited too long," he blurted out. "I was there in the cave...watching. They beat and humiliated him, and I just watched. I should have killed them the second they were in sight. I told myself I was waiting for proof, that you would need evidence when you reported back to Greagoir. But I let them hurt him, and I'd promised him I would protect him."

He looked up at his friend, desperate to see understanding.

"I don't envy the situation you were in." Aleesa spoke gently. "I am grateful for what you learned and what those men did to condemn themselves, but I'm sorry for the cost you both had to pay."

She stood in quiet thought. "Did you get the names of either man?"

"The Templar called the guard James. I don't know the Templar's name, but I am sure Anders does."

A knock on the door. Aleesa walked over and let in a Templar.

"You sent for me?" the Templar asked.

Aleesa thanked him for coming and asked his name.

"Edward, Warden-Commander. How may I be of service?" He was middle-aged with kind eyes and laugh lines under a mop of light brown hair.

"Edward, I would like you to bear witness." Aleesa gestured for Nate to join them. When he neared, she tipped his chin up, exposing the bloody gash at his throat. "I need to make a report to the Knight-Commander. I wish to include a description of this wound from one he can trust. I understand that you are the senior Templar in Amaranthine?"

The man nodded, his brow arched in apparent curiosity.

"Then I ask that you write a testimony for me. I will not ask you to testify to anything you have not seen. Please simply describe the location and severity of the wound. You may speculate as to the hold and nature of the weapon if you feel comfortable doing so."

"May I ask about the nature of the report my testimony is to accompany?" the Templar inquired.

"You may," Aleesa said with a smile, "and if _Greagoir_ feels it is important for you to know, I have no doubt he will tell you."

The Templar nodded his head with a look of amused surrender before taking his leave.

Aleesa turned to face Nate again. "I have never been so happy to have a Warden injured." Her smile was half sad and half bitter.

"I will talk to Guard-Commander Liam in the morning. I'll wait for the Templar's testimony before dealing with Greagoir. I may have to address this in person..."

She looked up from her musings.

"Forgive me, you have more important matters. Dismissed."

o o o

Anders stood in the hallway as the servants finished pouring water into the tub. Once the room was his, he stripped and climbed into the warm water. He cast a spell to heat it further.

"_I hope you haven't forgotten your training_."

He shivered as the Templar's voice ran through his head. Then he thought about the words. He had. He had forgotten that he belonged to the Templars and always would. He had forgotten that they were always watching, that they would always find him. He had forgotten that they could do whatever they wanted to him.

A little voice in his head tried to object. It tried to say that he was a Warden now and that he was free. It tried to point out that he had gotten away and was safe once more, but the mage would not listen.

He was just a Templar whore, and now Nate knew the truth. He had _seen_ how Anders was used to being treated. Was that why the noble had always been so hesitant? Did he suspect that Anders was used up and broken? Probably he was telling Aleesa all about it as Anders soaked. No wonder they wanted him to go bathe. _Clean the filth off, Mage, as we talk about just how disgusting you really are._ At least now they knew, and they could stop pretending Anders was one of them. They were nobles and he was a mage. "_Light the fires, heal the wounds, look good and crack jokes while you do it. And when you are done, find another whore of a servant to spend the night with._" He repeated it like a mantra as he steeled himself for his roommate's inevitable entrance.

o o o

"Garvey"

Nate had only just opened the door to their room. "What?"

"His name is..._was_ Garvey. She wants to know, right?" Anders was sitting in the tub with his back to the door.

Nate shut the door behind himself and stared at the other man's back. "Yes," he conceded, "but that's not...she's more worried about _you_."

"I'm fine," Anders commented casually. "I've already healed myself."

"We're not worried about the cuts and bruises."

"Really? What good is a pretty face if it's all black and blue. Can't have the Wardens looking dingy; it might ruin our daunting image as invincible heroes. Then no one would want to join."

"Anders," Nate began carefully. He had seen Anders use humour to protect himself and keep others away, but he had never seen the mage so tense and guarded.

"Don't worry, I'm scrubbing up like a good little boy. Commander's orders, after all. I hope it's not too late to have lunch. I'm starved! And I still have to give my report on this morning's investigation."

"It's closer to supper time, but I could have the innkeeper send something up..." Nate was unsure of every word.

"Any early supper then! Usual table, an extra round! Let me just rinse my hair."

"Anders, please don't be like this." Nate tried to sound calm, but pleading slipped into his voice.

"Like what?" The mage's tone mixed flippancy and mockery.

"I know you're upset. I know you're mad at me. I promised to protect you, but I..."

"That's okay." The tone was growing crueller. "We'll just have a long talk and everything will be okay again."

Nate risked approaching and saw the side of Anders' mocking grin. He took another step forward, but Anders turned his head away.

"We don't have to talk. Not now. Not until your ready."

"Talking doesn't change anything!" Anders spat.

Nate could hear the edge of tears. As he neared the tub, he wanted nothing more than to hold the other man.

"Anders? I don't know if you want to be...touched right now, but...may I...join you?"

A full minute passed before the mage gave a tiny nod. Nate took off his boots and leathers, but left his smock and braies on to make his intentions clear. He started to climb into the tub.

"What are you doing!" Anders eyes were wide.

Nate pulled back. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you nodded, that you -"

"You're still dressed! Those clothes won't dry fully before we leave tomorrow. They'll either chafe you on the walk or get mildewy in your pack."

Nate stared at Anders, dumbfounded. After everything that had happened that day, the mage was worried about chafing and mildew. Nate laughed as he stripped completely.

"You are a strange man," Nate said with a shake of his head as he stepped into the tub.

"That's why you love me," Anders' tone was a mix of self-mockery and bitterness.

Nate sat down and looked hard at the man next to him.

"I _do_ love you." Nate was surprised to hear himself say it, but he knew it was true. He had resisted his feelings from the beginning, hating his attraction to the frivolous mage and then resenting each hint that there was more to the man than he had originally assessed. He had cautiously and reluctantly let affection take root. Even despite his care, he had managed to become deeply attached to the man sitting next to him. He had just not realised how attached he really was until he had thought he would lose him to a Templar's blade.

Anders sat rigid and silent. Nate wondered if he should stop talking before he scared the mage off completely, but he could not. His guilt would not let him.

"That's why I hate myself for not protecting you. I could have stopped it sooner and I didn't. And if you never forgive me, if you send me away, I'll understand. But I'll still love you."

They sat in a long silence.

Finally, Anders spoke: "What do you mean you could have stopped it sooner?"

Shame filled Nate as he answered.

"I was there before I shot the guard. I was there when you woke up, when you recognised your captor and were terrified. I was there when he hit you and I didn't shoot him. I didn't know who the men were, why they'd captured you. I wanted information. I was worried about diplomacy. I...let them hurt you while I waited."

Nate barely managed to choke out the last few words. When he calmed himself, he added, "I am _so_ sorry, Anders."

They sat through another long silence.

"Was he the other Templar?" Nate asked cautiously. "The one you couldn't talk about this morning?"

Anders nodded, his face set like stone.

The bath had lost its warmth, but they continued to sit, still and silent.

Anders turned and looked at Nate for the first time since they had parted company that morning.

Nate watched the mage's eyes run over his features, before settling on his neck. Anders splashed some of the bath water against the wound to wash away the dried blood. He lifted a hand to the wound, but Nate caught it gently in his own.

"No. Don't heal it," His voice was soft and calm.

Anders looked at him with irritation. "If I don't heal it, it will scar."

"Good."

The look was now suspicious. "Why do you want a scar?"

A dozen answers filled his mind and he struggled to make sense of them.

"To remember; to know it was real; to prove to Greagoir it was real." Anders arched a brow at that. "Because I don't deserve to have you magically fix what I cannot fix for you; as punishment for waiting; to remind me how close I came to..." His voice began to fail him.

"There is no need to be so dramatic," the mage huffed, "surely this was not your first brush with death."

"I'm not upset at how close I came to losing my head, Anders. Maker, you are so daft!" Nate wondered if the mage was being obstinate on purpose. Was he mocking Nate's feelings?

"I am upset at how close I came to losing _you! _He had you on the ground with nothing between his blade and your throat! Getting him to turn his sword on me was the only thing I did _right_ in that cave."

They stared at each other, each searching the other's eyes.

"Anders," he pleaded gently, "if you have it in you to let someone in, please, let it be me."

The mage dropped his head and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and sighed it out very slowly.

Finally, he looked up at Nate. "I'm embarrassed," he said simply.

Nate had expected fury or more deflecting humour, so this simple statement caught him completely off guard. "Why?"

"Because of what you saw...what you think of me." Anders dropped his eyes, and it hurt Nate see the subservient gesture from the man who was usually full of spirit and defiance.

"I think that you are strong and brave to have lived through so much," he assured him. "I have no idea how you made it through an entire year of solitary confinement."

Anders gave a mirthless grin. "I survived. That was all I focused on. Survive and then escape."

"Which you did."

"And then he tracked me down and caught me again."

"And now he's dead."

Anders shivered, although Nate could not tell if it was from memories or the now-cold water.

"Let's get you warm and dry." The mage let him help him from the water. He bundled the smaller man in waiting towels, before pulling him in front of the fire. He wrapped his arms around the mage and held him close. Very, very slowly, he felt Anders relax into his embrace.

o o o o o o o o o


	17. Ch 17 Dreams

o o o o o o o o o

Nate had again suggested that they order food to the room, but Anders insisted on eating in the common room. He craved roaring fires, rowdy laughter, and drunken song. Once downstairs, he played the part of a merry soul. He joked with the innkeeper, flirted with the barmaid, and started friendly conversations with other patrons.

If Nate and Aleesa doubted the sincerity of his joyful behaviour, they hid it well. They joined him in hearty eating and drinking. They laughed at his jokes and told their own. Not a moment was spent on any topic that was not light and immediate.

The only hint that the day had been different from any other came when Aleesa commented that the return to Vigil's Keep could be delayed another day. Anders dismissed the suggestion with a comment about how their business was done and the weather ought to be mild. Why would they stay?

The rogues agreed that an early night was wise and they all retired to their rooms. Anders crawled into bed, as Nate sat by the fire to read. The mage rolled onto his side and faced the wall. Only then did his thoughts force themselves upon him again.

He thought about Garvey and the cave. He thought about James and how close he had come to leaving with the man the night before.

Finally, he thought about the things Nate had said as they sat together in the tepid bath. The bowman had spoken the words that no one had said to Anders since he was torn from his mother. And Nate had not said them the same way his mother had. However, he was not sure quite what Nate meant by them. "_What does he want from me? What does he expect?" _Those were but two of the questions racing through his mind.

He took some comfort in the fact that Nate had not pressed him for words of his own. In contrast, the bowman had said that he would continue to love him, even if the mage rejected him. Anders had no idea what to make of that.

He felt completely out of his depths. In the Tower, Anders had known the dangers of getting attached to someone the Templars could use against him. But he was no longer in the Tower. He was a Warden, and two of his comrades were married. One even had a child! Could he really be in a relationship?

No one had shown such interest in a relationship with him since his youthful romance with Karl. And that was quite different. He had been close to Karl, but the man had not excited him. Karl's touch had always felt more familial than erotic. He had returned Karl's advances mainly because it was better than being alone in a strange new life.

That was not the case with Nate. Anders _wanted_ Nate. He thrilled to see the powerful bowman's naked form. He shivered at the touch of strong, calloused fingers. His skin tingled at the sound of his low, rough voice.

No one made him feel safer; no one made him feel more aroused. And yet, the thought of the other man's passion for him made him feel _confined_. Nate would not take things lightly, and Anders did not know any other way.

He had tried so hard not to hurt Karl. He had not asked Karl to become so attached to him, and yet he felt responsible for the other mage's feelings. It was a responsibility he resented. And now that same responsibility was being shoved onto him again. He did not want to hurt someone else, certainly not Nate. But it would happen, and it would be his fault.

With that thought in his head, sleep finally took him.

o o o

_Through the darkness and fog, he could make out the runes etched into the stone walls beyond his bars. He shuddered with the cold and the memories. The fog cleared and he could see his surroundings more clearly in the dim light of the distant torch. He was in the far cell, against the wall, furthest from the door, so no one would hear his screams._

_The two cells next to him were empty, and he looked through them to the door. There was no one in sight, but he could hear noises down the hall. The noise grew louder until the door burst open. In came two Templars with a familiar shape between them: Jowan. _

_Jowan was thrown in the first cell where he simply sat on the floor. He did not seem to notice Anders. _

_Anders watched the two Templars carefully, trying to make out their faces through the helms. As if responding to his thoughts, they removed the helms. Garvey and Biffon watched Jowan and then turned to Anders._

_They were leering as they approached. _

"_We have a new friend for you, filth." Garvey did the talking._

_Jowan looked up and noticed Anders for the first time. His face was unreadable._

_Anders' eyes were fixed on Garvey._

"_While you have been staying with us, this little weasel destroyed his phylactery and escaped. He's been a very bad boy and he'll get the sword for certain. But for now, he will be joining with us. We thought you should help him __learn how things work down here. How about a little demonstration? You can show him what he'll have to look forward to after you are released." Garvey looked between the mages, so that both could see his distorted grin._

"_Biffon, if the new one tries to look away, chain him to the bars. Cut his eyelids off if necessary." He entered Anders' cell. "Now, where did we leave off last time? Ah yes..." He began to remove his codpiece. _

_Anders' eyes flitted to Jowan and he saw comprehension followed by horror in the other mage's eyes. He flushed with shame at what he was about to do, what Jowan was about to see. He started to tremble._

_Anders saw the game: he would get pain and humiliation, and Jowan would get fear._

"_Biffon, which end would you like?" _

_Anders shook harder. Then he bolted. He made it to the door but Garvey grabbed his upper arms from behind. He fought with all his might._

"_Anders!" Not Garvey's voice. Strange, yet familiar. Safe. _

"_You're okay, you're safe." Safe. _

_The pressure on his arms was gone. He looked around and was back in the dark fog. _

_He felt something soft against his face. Fur. Whiskers. The fog cleared and Ser Pounce-a-lot was on his lap. He was sitting by the hearth in the library of Vigil's Keep. _

_Someone sat down next to him and put an arm around him. The arm was muscular and gentle. Ser Pounce-a-lot moved to the new lap and the other man stroked his back from neck to tail._

_Anders leaned against the strong chest._

"_You're okay, you're safe," came the voice again. It was this man's voice. Anders curled up in the safety of the chest and arm, and closed his eyes. Safe._

o o o

Anders was thrashing in his sleep.

"Anders. You're okay. You're safe."

Nate gently chanted reassuring words for the fourth time that night. As before, Anders finally stilled and his heavy breathing indicated that he had returned to deep slumber.

Nate leaned back on the bed next to his mage. He allowed himself to doze as he waited for morning.

A couple of hours passed before sunlight began to show through the window. As the room lightened, Anders' breathing became more shallow and he began to stir. Dark amber eyes opened and blinked before resting on Nate's steel ones. Anders smiled and it warmed his heart to see it.

"You saved me," the mage said softly.

"Not soon enough," he apologised.

Anders shook his head. "I had horrible dreams. I was back at the Tower. Garvey was there. Sometimes others: Rylock, Biffon, that guard James, sometimes Jowan."

"Jowan?"

"He was another mage. Our stays in the dungeon overlapped for about a week, and the Templars...Anyway, that's not the point."

He pouted at Nate for the interruption before continuing.

"Every time they started to hurt me, I would hear your voice. I could hear you say "You're okay, your safe." And then I would be. The Templars would disappear and we'd be back at the Keep in my room or in the library. We would be sitting together, and you would hold me and pet Ser Pounce-a-lot."

Nate barked a laugh. "You should have known it was a dream at that point. I'm not petting that cat until you give it a proper name."

Anders smiled, but it slowly faded. "I thought a lot about what you said, about how you could have stopped it sooner and you didn't."

Nate swallowed hard, trying to predict the mage's next words.

"I could hate you for not stepping in a few minutes sooner, but what would that do? If you really wanted to save me before anything happened, you were years and years too late. You waited until you had evidence that would appease Aleesa, and perhaps Greagoir. You didn't know Garvey. You didn't have reason to kill him on sight."

"I _did_ have reason. I just didn't _know_ it," Nate corrected.

Anders gave him a small, weak smile before continuing. "I am sorry you had to see it."

Nate wrapped the mage in his arms, gently nuzzling his neck. "I'm just glad we made it out alive." He leaned over and kissed Anders gently on the lips. Soft hands slid into his dark hair and he was pulled down hard against the man beneath him. Lips parted and tongues danced as they released their fears and relief into a kiss that left them both gasping for air.

Anders watched him with those warm amber eyes. A couple of times the mage opened his mouth as if to speak, but he said nothing.

o o o

Aleesa stepped out of the morning chill into the Crown and Lion common room. Nate and Anders were already halfway through breakfast.

"What? I'm out cleaning up your mess, and you guys can't even wait for me?" She dropped into a chair and reached for the coffee.

"Sorry Commander, Warden hunger and all," Nate replied.

Anders could not speak for all the pancake in his mouth.

"Well, I'm glad to see you both up and eating. You'll be happy to hear that the Guard-Commander didn't care for this James fellow much more than you did. He'd already planned to dismiss the man. Apparently, he skipped morning training yesterday, and not for the first time. There were other complaints against him as well."

She looked pointedly at Nate.

"Your _friend_, Maker bless him, was even so kind as to make the dismissal official as of yesterday morning. So when he started a brawl with two Wardens during their patrol that afternoon, he was not a member of the guard, just some thug. His body is being collected from the edge of the woods as we speak."

She appreciated the arched eyebrows as a sign her men were listening.

"Yes, I spent my evening finding your cave and dragging that piece of shit through the woods. I left him half naked with his hand in his smallclothes. That seemed fitting." She gave an evil grin, before sighing and looking serious again. "At least this way, we can clean up the guard situation before we deal with the Templar. The Templar can rot in that cave for a few weeks for all I care."

"Garvey," Anders said.

Aleesa looked at him with appreciation. After everything that had happened to him, he was remarkable resilient. "Thank you. You've handled this better than I could have hoped."

She did not miss the way that Anders looked at Nate and smiled. She could guess at the source of some of his resilience. She studied her coffee intently so as not to intrude on their moment. And she pretended she did not hear Nate whisper into Anders' ear: "Strong and brave."

o o o o o o o o o


	18. Ch 18 Bed

**Explicit m/m sex. If you don't want to read it, skip the chapter.**

**Eternal love and thanks to my beta, Kelcat.**

* * *

><p>o o o o o o o o o<p>

The three Wardens had set out for Vigil's Keep after breakfast. It was a full day's walk from dusk until dawn, and they had left later than usual. Even at the brisk pace they set, they would not make it back to the Keep before dark.

As they crossed the countryside, they commented on the landscape and weather. The mundane topics seemed therapeutic for Anders, who appeared calm and peaceful. He let Nate hold his hand briefly as they walked, and he leaned against him when they rested after their midday meal. If Aleesa noticed these tokens of affection, and Nate had no doubt the other rogue did, she did not comment.

Despite such gestures, Nate worried about returning to the Keep. _Old haunts revive old habits_, he reminded himself. And he knew full well what habits the mage had at the Keep. Something that had nothing to do with hunger growled in the pit of Nate's stomach. He thought about all of the times he had walked in on Anders, or heard him flirting, or seen people leaving his room at all hours of the day and night... It had been uncomfortable before, when he was resisting the mage and swearing to himself he did not care. If it were to happen now...Nate simply could not think about it.

They made good time and reached the Keep soon after dark. Aleesa stopped to talk with Sigrun, who had been in charge in their absence and was now conversing with some of the merchants who sold their wares in the Keep's bailey. Anders and Nate greeted the dwarf and then continued toward the keep. A guard left his post as they approached and sauntered up to them. He gave the mage a flirtatious smile, ignoring Nate completely. Nate recognised him as one of Anders' lovers and felt his stomach clench and turn. Then the growling returned, and he felt as if some sort of beast were dwelling within him.

"You're back!" the guard greeted Anders cheerfully, still ignoring Nate. "I get off duty in an hour. I'll drop by your room."

Nate felt the beast grow agitated at the man's words, and it took all his self-restraint to not growl out loud. It did not help his jealousy that he had elicited no promises from Anders, and so did not know if the mage intended to try to keep his other lovers. If that was his intent, Nate would be forced to choose between the agony of losing his new lover and the torment of sharing him. And Nate knew he could not share.

Anders' manner became completely awkward. "Ummmm...that might not be..." He looked at Nate, who kept his face blank. He needed for Anders to do this alone; it had to be the mage's choice.

The guard looked between the two Wardens. "Bad time? Not a problem. Tomorrow's my day off. After breakfast?"

Anders shook his head, looking down at his feet. Some of Nate's tension melted away at the simple gesture.

The guard's face showed confusion and a touch of irritation. "Well, come get me when it _is_ a good time." He returned to his post, still looking at Anders. Anders was still staring at his feet.

Nate opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. It was not the ardent refusal he had hoped for, but it was still a decline. He took Anders' hand, gave him a small smile, and led him into the keep.

Ser Pounce-a-lot was waiting to greet Anders in the main hall. Nate stood patiently as the mage doted on his cat, scratching behind his ears and kissing the top of his small head. The larger man would usually roll his eyes at these displays, but this time he noted with a smile the mutual affection between man and tiny beast.

Anders found some kippers for the cat and stroked his back as he ate. Only after the cat had eaten and settled on a rug near the hearth would Anders let Nate lead him upstairs.

They paused in front of Nate's room. Nate had begun to head inside, while Anders had taken a step further down the hall to his own room. They stood at an impasse.

"I thought maybe you'd like to join me," Nate began. He worried briefly that Anders had refused the guard because he wanted to spend the night alone. He quickly dismissed the thought as highly unlikely.

"I thought we could go to my room. It's much bigger," Anders cooed. Nate smiled at the invitation. Then he thought about the mage's room: the master suite.

"Remember that it is also my parents' old room. A little strange for me."

Anders gave him a very dry look. "Think about all I've been through in the last couple of days, and tell me you can't face using Mummy and Daddy's old bed."

The bowman had to smile. "Touché." He set his pack down inside his childhood room and closed the door. He then let the mage lead him down the hall to the master suite.

Anders opened the door dramatically and gave a little bow as Nate walked past him into the room.

The noble stood in the room that had once been his parents'. His mother's vanity, once covered in perfume bottles and make-up, was now covered with the herbs and flasks Anders used to make potions. His father's bureau was clear of the brick-a-brack that had covered it for years. Now the wood top was empty except for a magic amulet Anders no longer wore.

Nate heard Anders close the door and turn the key.

Looking around, he saw that the furniture had been rearranged as well. The bed now sat directly opposite the largest window. Although the sky outside was currently inky black, Nate knew that the light would pour in those windows as soon as dawn broke.

"For someone so fond of sleeping in, I would have thought you'd move the bed to a dark corner," he stated.

"Oh no," the mage replied seriously, "I want full sunshine on my face before I wake. That way I remember I am free before I even open my eyes."

Nate liked that sentiment. He hoped that he could provide the same assurance as the morning sun, but did not dare say anything. Anders' refusal of the guard had been sufficient demonstration of commitment for the night. He did not want to push the mage too quickly and risk losing him.

Then he thought about what they were planning to do. Previous attempts had been unsuccessful, and Nate feared what demons would come to the surface tonight.

"Are you sure you...want to?"

Anders gave an amused grin. "Did you think I dragged you down here to show you my view of the grounds?" This suggestion was all the more preposterous given the pitch black that was all that was to be seen through the windows. "Maybe I was hoping for privacy as we discuss Orlesian shoes?" Anders raised an eyebrow flirtatiously and took a step closer to him.

Nate rolled his eyes. "I just meant...you've been through a lot lately. Maybe you want to take things slowly."

Anders laughed. "You forget, Ser," he teased, "this is the part I am most familiar with. Taking it slow would be something new and strange."

Nate held up his hands in surrender and Anders took advantage of his captive. Smooth fingers ran around the bowman's waist and pulled him tight against the mage. Nate kissed him on the lips and let the mage deepen the kiss.

Hands ran from his waist to the buckles of his leather armour, and Nate felt his armour slowly loosen. Anders finally had to break the kiss to study a troublesome strap.

"This time, on the bed," Nate stipulated as the mage fussed.

"Anywhere you'd like," came the purr.

"And I want those eyes," Nate added greedily, cupping the mage's face and peering into the large amber-brown pools.

"If you're going to be so bossy, why don't _you_ lead?" Anders glared, but was still smiling.

"We don't have to lead and follow," Nate said in a soft, serious voice. "We can just be together." He enveloped the smaller man in his arms and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

Nate helped Anders with the last of his buckles, and his armour fell to the floor. The mage's slender fingers slid under his smock and down his braies. Nate's hands nimbly worked on the ties of Anders' robes. Very soon they were both naked, and Nate was guiding Anders to the bed.

The bowman moved to the back of the bed and rested against the many pillows and headboard. Anders gave him an impish grin as he crawled up him. He teased Nate's mouth with quick kisses and licks before moving to his ear. The tip of his tongue ran along the edge before darting inside. Nate moved his calloused hands through blond hair and down sleek shoulders.

Anders found a tender spot on Nate's neck and sucked hard. The bowman could not hold back his moan as teeth and tongue worked the sensitive flesh. Then the mage moved down to the joining of his neck and shoulders and bit hard. It hurt, but Nate found that the blood not rushing to the bruises on his neck was pulsing through his erection. Teeth gave way to simple kisses when the mage reached his collarbone and sternum.

The onslaught was relentless, and Nate had never been so aroused. He knew that if Anders left him after this night, he would go insane. It had taken the deep wells of his self-restraint to resist the mage's advances without knowing the silky feel of his skin; the firm resistance of the lean muscles underneath; and the musky, spicy scent and salty-sweet taste of his body.

Nate watched Anders worked his way down his body, holding his gaze as the mage kissed and licked and nipped. His eyes would drift shut whenever Anders tore a groan from him, but he soon reopened them to meet amber ones again. Each time their eyes met, they would exchanged smiles that ranged from flirty to almost shy.

Smooth fingers mixed with lips to excite Nate's thighs. He bucked his hips and ran his fingers into the soft blond hair hovering over his hips. Lips moved to his groin, breathing hot air onto his erection. There was a little smile from under the dirty blonde locks before an eager tongue ran up his length. The tongue swirled and stroked, pulling deeper groans from within him. His hips bucked again and were met with two soft, but strong hands.

Anders' wet lips kissed his tip, then spread to welcome his length into a warm, wet mouth.

"Oh, Maker!" Nate shuddered in delight. The sensations were amazing, but nothing aroused him more than the thought that it was _Anders'_ mouth wrapped around him and _Anders'_ tongue slicking against him. It was _Anders'_ smooth hand that slid from his hip to his hilt, squeezing and stroking in time with that hot mouth that was sucking so eagerly.

The thought of it all had Nate chanting Anders' name in reverence between groans.

o o o

Anders was entirely focused on his task. He was applying all his skill to pleasuring Nate and bringing him to completion before anything could interrupt them. Nate's body was tightening beneath him and he increased his speed to help his lover reach the edge. He concentrated on keeping a quick pace and going as deep as he could. The closer Nate came to climax, the harder he worked.

A calloused hand suddenly slid over the erection, preventing his movements.

"Not...a...chore." The bowman was struggling to speak through the frustration of his own delayed release.

Anders looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"You were...frowning again," breath still ragged, "I don't...want it...if you're not...enjoying it...too."

The heavy breathing and tense muscles told a story of very clear want; Anders was impressed by the willpower Nate displayed by stopping him so close to the end.

The mage gave his lover a grin and slowly took the throbbing length back into his mouth. Nate dropped his head back with a groan of pleasure and gratitude.

Anders took his time, exploring with his tongue and lips, playing with his fingertips. He savoured the smell and taste and feel of Nate. He noticed a small mole on one inner thigh and touched it lightly with a fingertip. He ran his hand up the bowman's muscular thighs and noted the way the dark hair thinned to smooth white skin by his hipbone. He committed every inch of the bowman to memory.

He increased his movements gradually and was increasingly aroused by the gasps and moans he was eliciting from the other man. He sucked harder and faster, his own body craving those noises of pleasure. He felt Nate's body tighten and then tremble beneath him and his mouth filled with warm, salty fluid. He swallowed with satisfaction, his own body tingling with the other man's release. He had never been so aroused by another person's climax.

After a few moments of complete stillness, Nate pulled him up onto his chest and planted kisses on the top of his head. When Anders looked up at him, the bowman grinned before kissing him on the lips. The kiss deepened, but remained tender and slow. When Nate pulled away gently, his eyes flitted to Anders' neglected erection.

"Do you have oil?"

Anders cocked an eyebrow at the unnecessary question (just who did Nate think he was talking to?), before opening a drawer in the table by the bed and removing a small flask. A large hand took it from him, pulled the stopper, and drizzled oil over two of Anders' long, soft fingers. Nate kissed him again and then leaned back against the bed.

Anders was surprised by the change in positioning. Despite his vast experience, he had rarely been inside another man. Most men had not even considered the alternative before slamming their cock into him. It did not help that he had often been with men who, upon loosening his long hair, had simply pretended he was a woman. The few men Anders had been inside were homely and inexperienced, thus emboldening Anders to assert himself. It struck Anders as odd that Nate, who must know that he could have the mage however he pleased, offered himself in such a vulnerable position.

Confusion pushed aside, Anders massaged the larger man's thigh with one hand as the other gently caressed his entrance. He carefully slid a slippery finger inside, pausing to gauge his partner's reaction. Nate inhaled deeply, clenching around Anders' finger, before slowly relaxing. Anders stroked in and out before adding a second finger. He reached deep inside his lover and found the spot that evoked a groan of delight. Smiling, he removed his fingers.

Nate sat up and slid his hips forward, handing the bottle of oil to the mage. Anders moved to stand at the foot of the bed and coated his length in oil. Nate was sitting on the very edge of the bed, his knees to either side of him. He kissed Anders deeply before leaning back against the bed.

Anders stepped forward and had to appreciate the convenient height of the bed. Nate rested one leg on his shoulder, wrapping the other around his waist. Anders was grateful that his soft skin and lean figure belied his strength. He easily supported the weight of both limbs as he positioned himself against the prone body in front of him.

Anders pressed himself against Nate's eager entrance and watched his lover's face as he carefully pushed himself inside. Nate gasped as Anders slowly moved deeper within him, but did not show signs of too much pain. Fully seated, the mage ran warm hands over his lover's body, casting small healing spells to soothe any discomfort. The two shared a grin before Anders began to move and both their eyes fell shut at the sensation.

Anders started with strong, slow movements, using his hands to caress the leg around his waist and the stomach stretched out before him. As his movements quickened, he brought one hand around his lover's erection, matching the rhythm of his own hips. His stomach tightened and he felt the pressure mount within him. He closed his eyes and began to thrust deeper and faster, losing himself to the pursuit of his own climax.

"Anders." The tone was soft, gentle, loving. Anders opened his eyes, returned to himself by his lover's call. He looked into steel grey eyes and smiled. He turned his head and kissed the inside of the leg over his shoulder.

They moved as one, sharing their pleasure. Their moans and gasps created an erotic harmony. The intensity of their passion grew and soon Anders felt Nate thrash and clench around him, calling out Anders' name as he came onto his own stomach.

The sound and feel of his lover's climax led Anders to his own release. His body shook and his knees would barely hold him. He leaned over Nate, resting his arms on the bed. Their eyes met again, and Anders blushed with his own exertion and joy.

When he trusted his legs to hold him, he retrieved a cloth to wipe his own oiled fingers and Nate's stomach. Then he was swept onto the bed by the strong arms of the bowman. They curled up against the pillows and pulled the blankets over themselves. No longer moving, they were aware of the draughtiness of the room.

Safely cocooned together, they ran fingers and lips over each other, sharing smiles between kisses. Anders fell asleep first, wrapped in the strong arms of his lover, a smile still on his lips.

o o o o o o o o o


	19. Ch 19 For Pity's Sake

o o o o o o o o o

Anders slammed his book shut and stared at the shelves of books in front of him. He was bored. In the days since their return from Amaranthine, he had grown quickly accustomed to Nate's constant presence. The bowman was not always at his side, but he was always around: across the room, across the training yard, or at the next table. Anders found that he liked the little looks and smiles they exchanged throughout the day. And he certainly liked the way Nate would hover in the evening, waiting for an invitation to the mage's room for the night.

What he did not like was that he had little idea how to act around anyone else. The soldiers and servants he had flirted with for months now presented a problem. His habit was to pinch the women and purr invitations to the men, but these suddenly felt forbidden. Nate had not specifically set any rules, but Anders felt the heavy weight of prohibition all the same.

Unsure how to behave around others, he stuck mainly to his fellow Wardens. Somehow fighting hundreds of darkspawn together allowed for interaction deeper than flirtation. Unfortunately, even that group was often reduced to just Nate and Aleesa. No one had seen Velanna since the siege, Justice had been sent off to Trevinter in search of a way back to the Fade, and Oghren spent more and more time with Felsi and their son. Sigrun was sometimes good company, but other times she would retreat into her own room with piles of books and be barely seen for weeks. There were a few new recruits, but in Anders' mind they did not really count.

Anders could not deny that Nate and Aleesa were his two favourite residents of the Keep, but he still felt restricted and confined by his sudden social limitation. He had fought against confinement every day of his life, since he first realised he had magic. Freedom was everything to him, and anything that even appeared to threaten it was to be fought against with every breath in his body.

Odd that today, freedom was making him crazy. Nate and Aleesa had been locked up in Aleesa's office since a letter had arrived at breakfast. With both of them occupied, there had been no one to even imply that his day should be spent one way or another. He had been free to do as he pleased.

He had initially delighted in this; he had gone straight back to bed after breakfast and lazily slept and read until the midday meal. When he had arrived in the dining hall, the only Wardens he had seen were a couple of recent recruits. Both were young and good-looking, so he had not trusted himself to sit with them without flirting. He had pouted and eaten by himself. Even Ser Pounce-a-lot had been absent, scared into hiding by the thunderstorm that raged outside.

The afternoon had passed far more slowly than the morning. The initial charm of lazing about had faded, and the storm kept him indoors. He had spent some time making potions in his room, but it had felt odd to be alone. After a lifetime of solitude, how could it feel odd to be alone?

He had given up on potions and settled into the library, finding some comfort in the presence of the others kept in by the storm. He had tried to engross himself in a book, but his eyes flew to the door each time it opened. And he hated each person who entered for not being who they should be.

Now it was nearly dark.

A growling in his stomach reminded Anders that it was time for the final meal of the day. The other occupants of the library had had the same thought and had all since departed. Anders knew he should join them, but was not excited by the thought of another meal alone.

The door opened.

"There you are." That low, gravely voice brought a smile of relief to Anders' face. He promptly hid it and looked up at Nate as if he had hardly noticed his lover's absence. He was choosing his nonchalant greeting when he saw Nate's serious expression and held his tongue.

"I need to talk to you." The rogue looked around and then settled next to him in front of the hearth.

"Remember when we were in Amaranthine, and you told me about your dream? You mentioned a mage named Jowan."

Anders nodded. He did not like how this was starting.

"Did you know him? Can you tell me about him?"

Anders looked into his lover's steel eyes. He really did not want to think about Jowan, but he knew better than to simply ignore the questions.

"Is it important? Does it have to do with why you and Aleesa have been locked away all day?"

Nate nodded. "Yes, to both. Aleesa is interested in this mage and his fate. She met him during the Blight."

Anders nodded. He had pieced together most of the events around Jowan poisoning Arl Eamon and Aleesa saving the Arl.

Nate continued. "She wants to know what he was like in the Tower, before the Blight."

Anders sighed. Perhaps it would not be as hard to remember Jowan before solitary. That Jowan had known nothing about solitary or what had happened to Anders when he was there.

"Jowan was an apprentice with me. We weren't friends, but we all knew each other. Jowan was very needy, desperate to be liked. Whenever someone was nice to him, he would follow them around afterwards. He was like a sad puppy looking for a home, so most of us just avoided him." Anders had never really reflected on his behaviour as an apprentice. He felt uncomfortable as he put his actions into words.

"He wasn't the best mage either. It took him longer than most to master a spell, and he was self-conscious about it. Time passed, and everyone else was Harrowed. He was the oldest apprentice." Anders thought back on Jowan's situation. "I guess he was pretty unhappy. He was stuck as an apprentice, he had only a couple of friends..."

Nate nodded. "What about later?" the archer asked cautiously. "What was he like then?"

Anders heart raced. The only time he had seen Jowan after the Blight began was the week they shared together in solitary. He refused to think about that.

"I'm sorry, Nate. I can't help you. There wasn't time to chat in the dungeons. It was supposed to be _solitary_ confinement."

Nate nodded his understanding and did not push the matter.

The bowman watched him for a moment and then spoke:

"Aleesa wants to recruit Jowan into the Grey Wardens."

Anders' heart began to race.

"What? Here? She wants to bring him here?" He imagined having to see Jowan everyday. To look his fellow mage in the eyes and know what he witnessed...to see it again through the other mage's eyes...

"No! No way!" Anders' tone was firm.

Nate looked surprised. "What? Why? I know you said you weren't friends, but that's not a rea-"

"No! He is not coming here."

"Anders, why do you care if he comes here?"

"I don't want to..." he took a deep breath and forced the words out. "I don't want to _ever_ see him again."

"If we don't succeed in recruiting him," Anders could hear Nate's patience straining, "he will be _executed_."

"No." Anders did not want to listen. He had escaped the Tower and made a safe new life for himself. He refused to let Jowan defile it with the memories he would bring.

"I can't believe you, Anders!" Nate's disapproval stung at him. "What did this man, a mage like you, do to you that you would condemn him to death at the hands of the Templars?"

Anders could not answer. How could he say that the man had done nothing to him other than witness his humiliation? How could he admit to willing another mage to die for the crime of being present and forced to watch?

Nate was studying him.

"Anders, I know these are hard things for you to remember and think about, but a man's life is at stake. I need you to talk to me." Anders was still and silent. He kept his eyes on the fire, knowing what the sight of Nate's intense eyes would do to his resolve.

They sat in silence until Nate began speaking in a soft, gentle voice.

"Do you think Jowan is a bad person? Do you think he would court demons or hurt innocents?"

Anders wanted to say "yes," knowing it would keep Jowan from the Keep, but he knew that was a lie. He did not consider Jowan a very virtuous sort, but he thought he was well-meaning enough that he would not _intentionally_ cause others harm.

"No." Anders hung his head, fighting against defeat. He felt the bowman's strong hand on his shoulder and he struggled between honesty and the desired outcome. The hand squeezed gently and spread across his back. Firm and gentle. Anders came undone.

"Jowan was weak, timid, frightened...but he was not mean or evil. He hurt Arl Eamon, but I think he really believed he was saving lives and helping Ferelden. He wouldn't try to kill a man if he didn't think it was for the sake of others."

"And do you think he could give up blood magic?" Nate asked cautiously.

Anders nodded. "He really wants to be a good person, to be liked. If you lay down firm rules and expectations, he'll fall in line. That's assuming the last couple of years haven't changed him too much." Anders thought of Garvey and imagined that Jowan might be very different after his time in solitary.

"Why don't you want him here?" Nate's low voice was gentle and reassuring. His arm was wrapped protectively around him and he placed his other hand on Anders' knee.

"He..." Anders was not sure if he could find words. He was filled with shame.

"Anders, it's me," Nate coaxed. "I will love you no matter what you say. Please?"

The gentle plea tugged at Anders' heart.

"He saw solitary. He saw what they did...what _I_ did... He has those memories, and I don't want him to bring them here!" Anders was trembling as Nate enclosed him in his strong, protective arms. He could not make out the gentle assurances Nate was whispering in his ear, but he felt understanding.

For a long time, Nate held him. The bowman stroked his hair and occasionally kissed him.

"Anders," his lover finally whispered, "we need to free him. And we need your help. We can send him off to Orlais afterwards, but I need you to be strong and help us."

Anders still did not want Jowan at the Keep. He did not want anything to do with the mage at all. "_Why can't they just free him on their own. Why involve me at all?_"

"You won't be alone, Anders," Nate continued softy, "I will be with you. No one will touch you. But we have to go to the Tower and -"

"No! No! Absolutely not!" Anders was thrashing against Nate's hold on him.

"No! I am not going back to the Tower! Never!" Anders eyes burned with rage as he fought his way to his feet.

Once free from his lover's hold, he turned back on him with venom in his tone. "Bad enough you want to recruit the one mage I never want to see again. You are actually asking me to willingly walk back into the prison I repeatedly risked my life to escape!"

"Anders," Nate pleaded gently, "you aren't one of their mages any more. You're a Grey Warden! They can't -"

"They can't what? Try to capture me like Rylock and Garvey did? Templars will always see me as an apostate and nothing else."

"Well they'd better learn." Nate's tone was menacing and his eyes were stern. "All the more reason for you to join us. Let them see you walk beside the other Wardens. Let them try _anything_ while Aleesa and I are there." His eyes flashed wickedly and Anders knew it should not arouse him the way it did. He remembered Nate saying that he wanted to storm the tower and slaughter Templars for the way Anders had been treated. The mage felt a heat in his stomach that was undermining his anger.

Nate looked at Anders reassuringly. "I promise you that we will be there the whole time. I will be there. No one will hurt you."

Anders glared into the fire with his arms crossed defiantly. He could feel Nate watching him and knew the rogue was contemplating how to convince him. Suddenly, Nate smiled..

"Anders," he cooed, "isn't part of the thrill of the escape imagining the baffled faces of the Templars you elude? Don't tell me you didn't love the thought of their outrage when they noticed you were gone. But you were never able to see it. Wouldn't it be fun to walk back into the lion's den and know they can't touch you? Can't you just imagine seeing your old 'friends' seethe at the sight of you free?"

Anders' lips gave the tiniest twitch, and Nate's smug smile showed that he thought he had won.

Anders' head was swimming with memories of the Tower. He could not imagine going back. He did not want to go back. But the thought of seeing those same Templars again now that he was free by the King's command, now that he was a Grey Warden...

He weighed his options and wondered if he really had any. He knew how stubborn Nate and Aleesa could be. And when the two rogues agreed on something, there was no chance of changing their collective mind. He did not make any promises, but as he and Nate walked to the dining hall, he felt that his fate was sealed. He wanted to resent Nate; he felt he ought to! Yet somehow he felt more resigned than resentful. He trusted Nate too much to not wonder if the other man was right.

o o o

As the boat neared the Tower, the Wardens could see figures on the grounds.

"There are mages outside!" Anders commented in disbelief.

Aleesa smiled. "I guess Wynne finally won that battle. She and Alistair have been pressing Greagoir since Alistair's coronation."

Anders tried to see it as a good omen, but his stomach still felt as if it were filled with lead.

When the boat reached the island, Anders recognised the Knight-Commander among the Templars standing on the grounds. Aleesa promptly approached the leader of the Templars.

"Good afternoon, Greagoir. I must see Jowan immediately. Please, walk with me."

"I still have not made a decision, Commander." Greagoir stated clearly. However, he turned and walked with her into the Tower. Anders fell in behind them and was comforted by the presence of Nate guarding his back.

They walked through the apprentice quarters and Anders glared into the eye-slit of even Templar they passed. He followed Greagoir and Aleesa down the stairs to the basement. Soon they opened the door to the cells where troublesome mages were kept.

Knight-Commander Greagoir was the first to enter, and he shouted a man's name in outrage.

As Anders entered the room, he was struck by the potent smell of urine. Looking past Greagoir and Aleesa, he saw Jowan cowering in the corner of a cell. The mage's robes were tattered, discoloured, and appeared to be wet. Anders noticed a small pool of liquid around him. A Templar was standing over the mage with his cod piece in his hand. He had turned, frozen, to face the sound of his own name shouted by his commander.

Greagoir stormed forward and began lecturing his charge in a menacing tone. Anders heard none of it; his eyes were on Jowan. The dark-haired mage had looked up at the sound of shouting and Anders could see the dark circles around his eyes. His cheekbones were more pronounced than Anders remembered, and he realised he was seeing signs of starvation.

Jowan's twitchy eyes alternated between the two Templars in front of him before he noticed the Wardens. Eventually, his eyes fell on Anders.

Anders met the other mage's stare. He felt pity.

Greagoir had grabbed the offending Templar and marched him from the room with a promise to return promptly. Left alone with Jowan, the three Wardens approached his cell.

"Can't you heal him, Anders?" Aleesa asked, visibly pained by the prisoner's condition.

"The runes will weaken my spells," Anders pointed to the symbols etched into the walls, "but I will do my best." He cast a few spells, before frowning in frustration. "What he really needs is food, a bath, and a good night's rest. Magic can't replace those things."

Aleesa nodded her understanding before turning to the prisoner. "I _will_ get you out. I promise." If Jowan heard her, he made no sign of it.

Nate moved closer to Anders and wrapped his arms protectively around him. There they stood until Greagoir returned.

o o o

Greagoir barely spoke as he posted a new Templar on guard duty and bid the Wardens to follow him to his office.

On the walk through the apprentice and mage floors, Anders passed many familiar faces in plate and in robes. He had thought that he would want to flaunt his freedom and his standing as a Grey Warden. Instead, he barely noticed them as his mind remained in the basement prison. He had never been very fond of Jowan, but the man did not deserve his current fate.

Once within Greagoir's office, Aleesa tried to speak but was cut off by the fuming Knight-Commander.

"I know what you are going to say," he started testily, "but that Templar's behaviour does not prove anything about Rylock or the others."

"It does prove that a Templar is _capable_ of overstepping his bounds," Aleesa started cautiously, "and what protection is there for the prisoner in that case?"

Greagoir paced his office. "I guess I could post a second guard down there..."

"I hear that the guards volunteer for solitary service," Aleesa pushed gently. "What does that tell you about the nature of those Templars?" A fierce look from the Knight-Commander caused her to add: "Perhaps it could just be a rotated shift?"

Greagoir stiffened, but Aleesa pressed on.

"And what are the consequences for a Templar who _does_ overstep his bounds? What will happen to that guard who-"

"Warden-Commander," Greagoir bit out, anger evident from his harsh tone and flushed cheeks, "It is _not_ your...I am perfectly capable..."

He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth before letting out a deep sigh. His shoulders slumped, and he dropped himself into his chair, resting his head in his hands.

Finally he looked up at Aleesa with tired eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Another one of your Templars came after my Warden." She indicated Anders with a nod of her head.

Greagoir's tired eyes fell on the Warden mage. Anders felt Nate's hand on his shoulder and bit back the urge to give a cheeky grin or make a comment that would further strain the conversation.

Greagoir looked back at Aleesa. "Garvey?" She nodded. "He was due back from leave a week ago. I should have known he wasn't visiting his sister," Greagoir grumbled.

"He attacked my second-in-command," a nod to Nate, "and died from an arrow to the throat." Anders noted that Aleesa made it sound as if it were Nate who had killed the Templar in self-defence. "I have a description of the injury my second-in-command received from Garvey; it is by your senior Templar in Amaranthine."

She handed the letter to Greagoir, who looked it over as she continued.

"Greagoir," her tone was soft and intimate, "we have always gotten along. We do not always see eye-to-eye, but I believe that we have always been able to trust and respect each other. I know that Anders and Jowan are not who you would consider exemplary mages, but what I need for the Wardens differs from what you need to keep peace in the Tower." She took a step closer, her eyes large and pleading.

"Please trust that I would not endanger the innocent people who live in Vigil's Keep. I would not have recruited Anders and would not be trying to recruit Jowan if I did not honestly believe that it is in the best interest of the people of Ferelden. Let me take Jowan off your hands and put him to work where he can do some good. You shouldn't have to be distracted from your duties by a single troublesome mage."

Her voice was almost cooing by the end, and Anders had to bite back a smile. He had seen her twist others to her will, but it was far more impressive on a man who was neither her subordinate nor her husband.

"Fine! Fine!" the Knight-Commander's resolve had broken. Or perhaps he was just desperate to be rid of the mage in his dungeon and the badgering Wardens. "But I want him Harrowed first!"

"Greagoir," Aleesa's voice was pure honey, "surely fighting a demon to save Arl Eamon's son was comparable to the Harrowing..."

"And how," the Knight-Commander asked with suspicion, "does a noble-born rogue know so much about the Harrowing?"

She gave a little shrug. "I've picked up bits here and there."

"You'll be the death of me, Warden-Commander," he sighed, "I'll walk you out. I'll have your maleficar join you at the boat. It would be better for everyone if no one sees him leave with you."

They walked out of the Tower in silence. Anders noted how very strange it felt to simply walk out the front door. They waited by the boat for some time, before a Templar led a cloaked figure toward them. Anders could barely see Jowan behind his knotted, filthy hair.

"Thank you," Aleesa said earnestly as the Knight-Commander helped her into the boat.

"He is dead to me," he replied solemnly, nodding at Jowan. "If the Wardens have a new mage," he said with feigned ignorance, "I know nothing about it." Then he gave Aleesa a weary smile. "Can I please recommend your next recruit? Someone nice and quiet?"

Aleesa smiled. "I will always take another mage recruit. But remember, I need someone crazy enough to willingly seek out darkspawn."

Greagoir looked at the two mages in the boat. "Perhaps you do know what you are doing after all."

o o o

Once they were out in the waters of the lake, Aleesa announced that they would spend the night at the Spoiled Princess Inn on the opposite shore. "He's in no shape to travel," she said needlessly.

Nate and Anders helped the frail mage from the boat as Aleesa went ahead to arrange a room and a meal. By the time they entered the inn, she was beckoning them to a room down a hall.

"It's a small place, so we'll be sharing the room. They are getting some soup and drink for us. Nate, can you go fetch it? And can you ask for a bath too?" Aleesa was bustling around the room as Anders led Jowan to a seat by the fire.

Nate soon returned with a tray of bowls, followed by a boy carrying a tub. While the boy went to fetch pails of water, Aleesa began spoon-feeding her new recruit.

"Slowly," she coaxed. Jowan obediently took small, slow slurps.

When the bath was filled, Nate and Aleesa slowly helped Jowan out of his tattered robes. Anders, who had seen Jowan's naked form before, noted how emaciated he was. Even the growth spurt of puberty had not made him as gawky as he now was. Anders turned his face away and tried to forget that he had wanted to leave Jowan to the Templars.

Nate and Aleesa washed the frail mage like new parents tending to their infant. Both seemed terrified of hurting or scaring the small man in the tub. Jowan seemed oblivious to it all in his half-dead stupor.

Finally, a cleaner mage with some food in his belly was wrapped in a spare smock and braies and tucked into bed. He fell asleep almost instantly.

Only then did the three Wardens take the time to begin addressing their own needs.

o o o o o o o o o


	20. Ch 20 Preoccupation

**Thank you to the readers who have been patient with my very slow revisions. And thank you to Kelcat for her tireless work spotting all my type-o's and awkward phrasing. I've played since she edited, so all errors are mine**.

o o o o o o o o o

Nate felt the warmth of sleep pull away from him. His senses told him the room was still and dark before he opened his eyes. He felt the tickle of Anders' hair against his face as he inhaled the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg.

He wondered how many mornings he would have to wake so close to his lover before the sensations stopped making his chest swell almost painfully. He hoped the Calling took him first. He hoped Anders would stay with him that long. He stopped his mind before he could move further down a line of thought that would lead to pain and doubt.

Right now, his mage was asleep by his side. Right now, they were together. Right now, he could hear the change in breathing across the room that told him that Aleesa was waking. He left his bedroll, his lover, and his thoughts.

He found Aleesa half-awake in the seat by the fire. She gave his a drowsy smile. Then she was up and pottering around the room. She went to the bed to check on Jowan; she checked the weak tea she had left by his bed; she checked the buttered bread that sat next to the tea. Seeming satisfied, she walked quietly by Anders' still sleeping form until she was back at Nate's side by the fire.

"It will be days before Jowan is strong enough for the walk back to the Keep," she whispered. "It seems a waste of assets for all three of us to sit around and wait for his recovery."

She was talking more to herself than Nate, thinking and planning out loud as she often did.

His eyes narrowed. He knew she would not be the one to leave her new recruit while he was so weak. And he knew she would want Anders on hand for his healing. He tried to formulate an objection that would not sound overprotective in case she ordered him back to the keep.

He did not want to leave Anders side, certainly not so close to the Tower and in the company of a mage who might trigger bad memories. But those were not Grey Warden reasons. Those were not reasons for a commander to keep her second-in-command from returning to their base and checking on the new Wardens stationed there.

Nate looked at his commander and saw her eyes laughing at him.

"I'll see if I can figure out a way to get all of us back sooner. I won't separate my love birds. Yet."

He felt a little embarrassed to have been so transparent. And he certainly felt uneasy making decisions for sentiment instead of practicality, but he nodded gratefully.

Anders began to stir and they both looked at him.

"Why don't you two go for a walk or something today?" Aleesa asked. "I can watch over Jowan by myself, and you might as well enjoy being stuck here."

o o o

The fresh air suited both men. They walked the perimeter of the lake for hours before settling on a large, flat boulder to eat the food they had carried from the inn. The sun was high overhead, but tall trees provided some cool shade for their makeshift table. They had spent the morning alternating between friendly chatter and relaxing silence. As they sat to eat, Anders broke the current silence.

"It's odd to be this close to the Tower without running away," he mused. "I have been on this shore many times, but always either desperately fleeing or being dragged back against my will. I never thought I would just sit and be able to look at that thing without worrying how soon I would be back there."

Nate had been pleased at how well Anders had handled their whole trip. He had been so composed, even when they had stood in the prisons where he had suffered. And he seemed softer toward Jowan. He had not said a word against the new mage recruit since he had seen the man's condition. Nate had worried the trip would open old wounds, but now he hoped it might even heal some old scars.

o o o

Jowan was awake when they returned. Aleesa had apparently given up on trying to comb out his matted locks and simply cut away the tangles and filth of too many months without basic hygiene. What remained of his hair was still wet from a recent bath. He now sat, wrapped in a blanket, nursing a mug of something steamy in the chair by the hearth.

He turned to the door when Anders and Nate entered. His features looked even more haggard and sunken with the severely short haircut. His eyes were set deeply in shadowed sockets, and his lips were tight and pursed.

This man looked like Justice, a spirit trapped in a decaying body. Yet this man's spirit was much weaker than Justice's. Nate tried to focus on the fact that the mage at least had the hope of returning the vitality to his body.

"Did you have a nice walk?" Aleesa asked cheerfully. "The weather was perfect today! If it's as nice tomorrow, I'll drag Jowan out to get a little sun."

Jowan watched Aleesa as she talked, but made no reaction and offered no comment of his own. Nate wondered how long it had been since the man had spoken at all.

The four of them ate supper in the room. Jowan sat with them and fed himself, but only watched as the others conversed. Nate was glad to see the mage was not as twitchy as he had been the day before. He must have suffered greatly to have become so frail and terrified.

Then his mind turned to the thought that Anders had been trapped in the same prison for a similar amount of time. Anders had suffered differently, he had not been so starved, but surely he must have been as abused. Nate's heart was torn between sadness and rage at such treatment towards his lover, and elation that Anders now sat healthy and cheerful beside him. The elation won.

He smiled at his mage and stroked his thigh under the table. Anders looked startled at first, but when their eyes met, he smiled. Nate brought his hand up to gently stroke his lover's stubbled cheek. Anders kissed Nate's fingers and smiled before turning back to his conversation with Aleesa.

Nate glanced over at Jowan and noticed that his eyes were set on the other mage. Then his eyes flit to Nate's before dropping back to the table. His face revealed nothing of his thoughts.

o o o

The next day, Aleesa saw her old contact with the Mages' Collective. Anders' face had lit up when she asked if he wanted to join her in seeing if the group of mages who defied the Circle and the Templars needed assistance. Nate was left to watch Jowan while the two fair-haired Wardens went to collect herbs for one of the rebel mages.

After Nate was satisfied that his charge had eaten a sufficient breakfast, he wrapped the smaller man in blankets and set him up on a chair outside. He chose a location where the mage could enjoy the mild morning sun and he could practice his archery. He shot arrow after arrow while the other man quietly watched. When Nate was content with the ache in his muscles and the sweat on his brow, he moved them back to the room.

Nate stripped down and bathed with little thought for the other man. He dressed in light linen, knowing he would be confined to the inn for the rest of the day and would have no need for armour. He was about to pick up a book and settle by the fire, when he decided to try something else.

He walked to the edge of the bed where Jowan had been sitting since they had come inside.

"If you have any questions, you are free to ask them," he said gently. Jowan started at the sound of a voice after their quiet morning together.

Nate sat beside the mage, careful to leave enough distance to not invade the jumpy man's personal space. He made his voice as soft and gentle as possible, barely more than a whisper.

"I know you have been through a lot. But you are done with the Tower now. You never have to go back. When you are strong enough to travel, we will take you to Vigil's Keep. It's a Grey Warden base. You will become one of us. I know that you are not getting a choice in this, but I promise you that you will be treated well there. You will be expected to serve our calling, but you will be treated with respect. You will have rights." Nate would not let himself consider that the man might not survive the Joining.

Jowan made no response, but his eyes reflected understanding.

"You'll have your own room, and you'll have privacy when you want it. You will be able to eat when you want." Nate tried to think of everything Anders had said was missing in the Tower and provided in the keep. "You will be able to use your magic to help people."

This last statement pulled a reaction from the reticent mage. He turned to face Nate with wide eyes. Nate thought he saw hope and continued.

"Yes, you will be a Warden mage. You will be allowed, _expected_, to use your magic to defend the arling, and Ferelden as a whole."

The mage was sitting straighter, his face more relaxed than Nate had seen it.

"I'm glad that you seem willing to join us. I didn't get a choice about joining either, but it has been the best thing that ever happened to me. And we need mages. Anders is the only one we have right now."

Jowan's face clouded slightly at the mention of the other mage. Nate wondered if Jowan shared Anders' concern about the memories another mage might bring to the Keep.

He did not have a chance to ask or say more, as his companions walked into the room. Anders looked at Jowan and him sitting on the bed together. Nate saw a flash of something cross his lover's eyes so quickly he could not identify it. He was suddenly aware that he was sitting closer to Jowan than he had originally been. He stood and crossed to the other Wardens.

Aleesa cheerfully reported that they had met a merchant who was planning to travel to Amaranthine in the morning. He had agreed to stop at the Keep first and to let Jowan ride in his wagon for the journey. Nate was not surprised that a merchant was happy to have three Wardens protect his wares as he travelled. The fact that the Keep itself was now a trading centre would suit the merchant as well.

o o o

As Nate and Anders curled up together in their bedrolls on the floor, Nate softly kissed Anders' neck. Anders turned in his arms and kissed Nate's lips, caressing them with his tongue.

"I cannot wait to get you back to the Keep...and my room," the mage purred softly.

Nate's body flushed and he tightened his hold on the other man. He kissed him hard on the lips, and Anders parted his lips eagerly. Soon both men were moaning into a deep and passionate kiss.

"Save it for the Keep," Aleesa admonished sleepily from her chair. "Or at least until your tent tomorrow night..."

Nate pulled away from the kiss and saw Anders' cheeky grin. He smiled at his impish lover and resigned himself to a simple cuddle as they slowly fell asleep.

o o o

The walk through the countryside had proved enjoyable. The merchant was a talkative dwarf with a biting sense of humour and a flare for storytelling. The Wardens enjoyed his company immensely and invited him to trade at the Keep on a regular basis.

Aleesa and Nate would each, on occasion, walk beside the wagon in case Jowan wanted to talk. The mage had not yet said a word to any of them, and they wanted to provide opportunities for when he was ready.

Anders was relieved to be walking away from the Tower and back to the Keep. He imagined his own room with its big canopy bed warmed by the sun that poured in through the windows. He imagined Ser Pounce-a-lot basking lazily in the warmth as he often did. Then he imagined having to disturb his beloved cat because Nate and he had other plans for the bed. A contented smile spread across his face.

He turned to look at his lover and found him walking next to the wagon, next to Jowan. His mood turned sour. He imagined being at the Keep again, but with Jowan there. He imagined meals with Jowan, practice with Jowan, travelling with Jowan. He imagined trying to talk to Nate, but Jowan tagging along.

Anders had worried that the dark-haired mage's presence would remind him of his own time in solitary, but that had barely happened. The memory of walking into the prison a few days ago with Greagoir's shouts in his ears and the smell of urine in his nostrils was far stronger than his hazy memories of the last week of his year-long ordeal.

When he looked at what remained of Jowan, he saw the half-starved, shivering mage wearing filthy robes in a puddle of Templar piss who had spent over a year in the basement of the Tower. He did not see the clean, healthy mage who had just arrived in solitary and looked so shocked at seeing Anders simultaneously violated by two Templars. The broken man who rode with them to the Keep was no longer capable of shock or judgement. Anders wondered if the other mage retained any capacity for emotion at all.

What about Jowan's presence annoyed him so much? Anders struggled with the question. He wanted it to be about the Tower and the Templars, but he knew that Jowan had always annoyed him. He had resented Jowan's very existence back when they were apprentices together. He never understood why Amell let him tag along, whining and glaring and complaining like a petulant child. The tower had never been big enough to avoid Jowan, and now the Keep would feel too small too.

Anders flinched away from the hand on his shoulder before he realised who it was.

"Sorry. You startled me."

Nate seemed to accept the excuse without question. "The sun is getting low," Nate was watching the sky, "We'll make camp soon."

Anders wanted the rogue to notice his mood and offer some comfort, but his usually perceptive lover was lost in his own thoughts.

o o o

They had found a nice clearing and had set up their tents and a fire before the light was gone. Anders was cooking while Nate sat with Aleesa and Jowan by the fire.

"Supper's ready!" Anders announced. "I'll bring some to our companion. Help yourself!" With that, the mage walked off to where the merchant was tending to his oxen.

Nate served up three bowls, handing one to Aleesa and then one to Jowan.

"Thank you."

Nate had startled at the unfamiliar, hoarse voice. A glance at Aleesa showed shock on her face as well. They both turned to Jowan.

"You're welcome," Nate said gently.

"Not just for the food," the mage continued awkwardly, "for everything." He gave a nervous smile.

"We're glad to have you," Aleesa said, and Nate nodded his agreement.

Then the three of them tucked into their bowls and ate in companionable silence. Nate did not even notice what he ate as he watched Jowan and felt relief that they had earned some of the scared man's trust. He stared into the night sky, as he thought about the past few days and, oddly enough, memories from his childhood. When his spoon scraped empty bowl, he came back to himself. He glanced to the side and saw Anders sitting nearby watching him.

o o o

Nate waited until he and Anders had the privacy of their tent before telling him about Jowan talking.

"Isn't that great?" Nate asked as he settled naked onto their bedrolls. "He's starting to trust us! He's recovering so well." He was watching Anders undo the binds of his robes.

"Did you like supper?"

Nate was a bit confused by the abrupt change in conversation. "Yeah, it was great," Nate offered.

Anders gave him an odd look. "You didn't notice," he pouted.

"Notice what? I was kind of distracted."

"Oh nothing," Anders turned away and shuffled around in his pack. "I just...I just wanted to make sure you liked it."

"You're a great cook! I always like your food."

"You don't like my rabbit stew. You said it was bland."

"No," Nate corrected, "I said that I miss the way the cook used to season it when I was a child. I wasn't saying that yours was bland." Nate was feeling a little confused at Anders' sudden concern about his cooking. The mage always cooked when they were on the road, and he had never needed any validation.

"We're all alone."

Nate looked up in surprise at yet another swift topic change. Anders turned to face him with an impish grin. There was nothing unclear about that look and Nate was quick to return it.

His mage pulled off his robes and joined him on their bedrolls. Very quickly they were coiled in each other's arms; Anders was kissing him deeply and Nate's body was responding with delight.

Soon his mage was working down his body, demonstrating his talent in driving Nate wild. He sucked on Nate's neck in the spot that sent shivers down his spine. Then he was biting the tendon that led to his shoulder. He teased Nate's nipples with tongue and teeth while his hands ran down to his hips.

Nate's stomach clenched in anticipation as feathery kisses floated down his stomach. Smooth fingers stroked his thighs and cupped his sack before finally wrapping around his length. He moaned as he abandoned himself completely to his lover's touch.

Perfect strokes were soon joined by a playfully flicking tongue and a hot, wet mouth. Every touch and movement tightened the coil within him and he was soon shuddering in release. The lights faded from his eyes and he felt enveloped in a velvety blackness. He could feel the air in their tent as it pressed against his skin, but his mind was locked on the sensation of warm cheek and soft hair against his thigh.

It was some time before his mind fully returned to his body, and he was able to open his eyes with tentative blinks. Anders was sitting on his heels, watching his face with a smug grin.

"You. Are. Amazing." Nate gasped huskily.

The smug grin widened and a brow crooked up. "Oh, I know."

Nate grabbed his mage and pushed him down onto the bedroll before straddling his stomach.

"I don't think you really do." His voice was low and full of need.

Anders did not have a chance to reply before Nate's mouth was pressed firmly to his and Nate's tongue plundered his mouth. Nate grinned as he felt Anders harden beneath him. He moved from the mage's mouth to his ear and neck.

"I thought I'd satiated you," Anders scolded jovially.

Nate pulled his mouth away so that he could look directly into his lover's eyes.

"I won't be satisfied until I've tasted you," he said almost threateningly. Then he lowered his mouth to his ear and growled "I'm going to _devour_ you." His growing erection throbbed as he felt the man beneath him shiver slightly at his words.

Nate bit Anders' ear and then moved down his neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He sucked and bit hard at the tender muscles. He could feel his lover's pulse against his lips. He knew that Anders' neck would be heavily bruised in the morning and the possessive beast within him roared with pride.

There were no feathery kisses or light nibbles as he worked his way toward the heat of his lover's groin. He was feasting on the man beneath him. His jaw strained as he tried to take more chest and stomach and hip into his mouth.

When he reached Anders' erection, he did not tease or play as he normally would. He licked his lips, gave Anders a greedy smile and then took the whole length into his mouth. Both men groaned as the tip hit the back of his throat. Nate sucked vigorously, wanting to swallow his mage completely. He dug his hands into Anders' hips, smiling at the additional marks he was leaving on the other man's skin.

He sucked and bobbed and lashed out with his tongue, nothing satiating his appetite. His need only grew as Anders moaned and squirmed beneath him.

"Nate..." Anders' voice was trembling and it sent a thrill down his spine to hear it.

And then the mage was shaking and crying out with his release. Crying Nate's name. As he swallowed his lover's salty seed, his lover's cries in his ears, Nate felt the beast within him settle and the hunger bleed away.

The man beneath him, his beloved, his mage, was still but for a slight trembling. Ecstasy was etched into his beautiful features. The beast smiled proudly and curled up to go to sleep.

o o o o o o o o o


	21. Ch 21 Attraction

o o o o o o o o o

They were walking up to the Keep when a soldier approached Aleesa to announce that King Alistair and his entourage had arrived the night before. Aleesa's whole face lit up before promptly crumpling into a frown as she looked at Jowan.

"Shit! He's going to kill me," she muttered.

"Well you could hardly hide it forever, could you?" Nate tried to keep his tone reassuring.

"No," Aleesa conceded. "But I was hoping to at least have him through the Joining first..."

She looked at Jowan again. "You know...he might not recognise him."

Nate arched an eyebrow. "It will come out eventually. You will only make it worse."

She nodded begrudgingly. "I know, I know. Let's go get this over with."

She helped Jowan from the wagon and the four of them said their farewells to the merchant before they walked into the Keep.

The throne room was empty. Aleesa gave a sigh of relief.

"Take Jowan and find a room for him. I will see you all at supper." With that, she left in search of her husband.

Nate and Anders led Jowan to the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Anders led them left, toward the guest rooms and away from his and Nate's rooms. At the end of the hall, he turned away from the corridor that led to Aleesa's rooms and down a long unoccupied corridor. When he reached the last room, he poked his head inside and looked it over.

"Here's a nice room," Anders said simply. "It'll give you a nice view and some privacy."

"_And it's the furthest room on the floor from your own,_" Nate could not help but think. He had thought that Anders was ready to accept Jowan once he had seen how his fellow mage had suffered. Suddenly, he was unsure.

His belief that Anders had accepted Jowan was based on Anders' behaviour in the tower: he had seemed eager to help and heal the other mage.

Nate searched his mind for evidence of acceptance at the inn or on the road. He remembered Anders giving Jowan a spare robe to wear, but that had been on Aleesa's instructions. Nate tried to recall Anders' face as he had handed over the garment, but he had not seen it. He had been watching Jowan, looking to see the frail mage's reaction.

He remembered Anders walking in when he and Jowan had been sitting on the bed together. He remembered seeing a flash of something in Anders' eyes and was now burning to know what it had been.

He also remembered Anders changing the topic when Nate was telling him about Jowan's first spoken words. Anders had not been there. Had the two mages spoken a word to each other before now?

Nate cursed himself for not being more attentive to Anders over the past few days. They had spent little time alone, only their nights in their tent, but that should not have prevented him from watching Anders during the day or questioning him when they were alone at night.

Instead, he had spent his days on duty and his nights on passion and sleep. He had made little effort to probe Anders' thoughts on what he knew to be a sensitive topic. "_Fine rogue you are,_" he thought bitterly. "_So observant you don't even notice your own lover_."

Nate was pulled from his thoughts by Anders' sudden announcement that he would see them at supper. And then the mage was gone down the corridor.

Had Anders been more distant the last few days? Nate furrowed his brow before remembering he was still standing next to Jowan in the doorway of the recruit's new room.

He composed himself and gave Jowan some basic instructions on meals and the baths. He provided directions to his room in case Jowan needed anything before supper.

"And Anders' room is next to mine if you have any mage questions." Nate noticed the slight raise of an eyebrow.

"You don't share a room?" Jowan asked in his timid voice.

"Uh..." Nate was embarrassed to hear his own concern voiced by another. He had hoped that the master suite would become _their_ room, but Anders had made it clear that it was his alone. Nate did not enter without Anders and he did not have any possessions in the room. A book left there accidentally had been promptly returned to his own room.

Nate hated having to lurk every evening in the hopes of an invitation to his lover's room, especially when they always shared a tent on the road. But he would remind himself that, despite their intense history, they had not actually been lovers for very long. His mage needed time.

"Anders likes his privacy." Nate felt a bit defensive and added, "after not having any in the Tower."

Jowan had a knowing look as he nodded his head. Was he agreeing about the lack of privacy in the Tower? Or was he showing his understanding of Anders?

Nate remembered that Jowan had known Anders for years longer than he had. He felt a sudden desire to interrogate the recruit, but was distracted by the sounds of voices around the corner.

o o o

Anders felt relief with each step he took away from Jowan's room. He was eager to retreat to his own room where the other mage could not follow. He felt uneasy having left Nate behind and wondered if the bowman would seek him out before supper.

He turned the corner and saw the lithe form of a male elf with light blond hair kept from his face by delicate braids. Anders stopped dead in his tracks.

"_Hel-lo!"_ he thought, taking in the elf's smooth brown skin and lean, muscular build under his fine leather armour. He was a rogue with access to ample funds, according to the beautifully crafted leather armour. The rogue was standing casually in the hallway, studying a painting on the wall. Anders stood mesmerized as the elf gracefully shifted his weight between his feet.

The elf finally turned a brilliant smile on him and he felt his heart skip as he took in the attractive features. Golden eyes danced with humour, while a swirl of tattoo on his left cheek spoke of danger. He wondered what other tattoos might be hidden beneath the rogue's leathers.

"Mage. Blond. Handsome. You must be the one they call Anders, no?"

Anders had been so enchanted by the sultry Antivan accent that he almost forgot to listen to the words. Who was this man who knew who he was?

Then he remembered his commander's tales from the Blight. He remembered her descriptions of the Antivan assassin she had befriended after he had failed to kill her. The assassin had stayed on after the Archdemon was slain and was now in service to the Crown.

"And you must be Zevran," Anders tried to match the elf's confidence and charm. He was rewarded with a playful smile and hands lifted in mock surrender.

"Ah, I am discovered already. It is good I was not sent here to kill you."

"If you had been, I doubt you would be casually strolling the corridors at dusk."

"True enough," the assassin replied dangerously. "You would not know I am here if I did not wish you to."

"Then I am honoured you wish me to see you. You are quite a sight," Anders purred without thinking.

"And you are Nate?" the elf commented over Anders' shoulder.

Anders' head spun round and realised that the bowman was standing directly behind him.

"Yes, I am." Nate's face was neutral as he looked at Zevran.

"Your illustrious commander assures me that you do not share your father's nature. It pleases me to hear that."

"And she assures me that you will not try to assassinate her again."

Zevran smiled at the exchange; Nate returned a smaller version of it. Neither man was looking at Anders, and the mage felt a sudden urge to slink away.

o o o

All three men started at the roar of anger that came from the hall that led to Aleesa's rooms.

"_I guess she told Alistair about Jowan,"_ Nate thought to himself.

A moment later, Alistair was thundering down the hallway toward them.

"Where is he?"

Aleesa was on his heels, looking almost as furious. The two stopped next to Nate and dove into a heated debate of the culpability of Jowan in the Arl's illness, Connor's demonic possession, and the death toll at Redcliffe.

Nate was having trouble concentrating on the words the two royals threw at each other. His eyes were still on Anders and Zevran.

Zevran was watching the royal couple with amusement. This was clearly nothing new to him.

Anders' eyes were glazed and his face was impossible to read. Suddenly, his eyes focused and set on Alistair's.

"Alistair." The mage's voice was heavy with emotion, despite being little more than a whisper. All eyes turned on him, but his words were directed to Alistair alone. "No one deserves what happened in the tower. Not even Jowan."

Alistair stared intently at Anders, and Nate watched the fire leave the king's eyes. Whatever their eyes were communicating, it was in a language shared by only them.

"Fine." the king muttered. "Fine. We won't send him back."

Anders gave a little nod of...what? Agreement? Gratitude? There was no emotion on his face.

Nate met Aleesa's eyes and it was clear that she was as surprised and confused as he was.

"But what is to be done with him now?" The king, while calmer, was still clearly displeased.

"Let's discuss it over supper," Aleesa suggested cautiously. "Nate, could you get Jowan?"

Nate gave a nod and walked back to the recruit's room. He found Jowan perched on the edge of his bed, looking jumpier than he had left him. Nate wondered if the mage had heard the king's words. He had certainly heard the roar.

"It's time for supper," Nate called softly.

Jowan slid off the bed and quietly fell in behind Nate as they walked back to the waiting party. Nate saw Alistair's eyes widen as he took in the sight of Jowan's current state. Even after days of freedom, the mage looked ghostly.

Then the king turned away and led the party to the dining hall.

o o o

"I came here on my way to Highever." Alistair was more relaxed and cheerful as he sat next to his wife and ate the sumptuous meal prepared in his honour.

Aleesa's eyes fixed on her husband at the mention of her family home. Alistair gave her a smile and continued. "I have business there. I thought you might want to join me and see your brother."

"Yes! I would love that!"

Alistair smiled at his queen. "I wasn't sure I would be able to tear you away from the Keep, Commander."

"Nate can handle anything that comes up while we're away. Although..." She looked over at Jowan and her face clouded. "That would mean the Joining would be delayed until I returned."

"Or we could do it tonight." Alistair's eyes were also set on Jowan. Although his earlier rage was gone, his look was hard and determined. Nate wondered if the king hoped that the Joining would bring the execution he had wanted.

Aleesa opened her mouth to object, but a small voice cut her off.

"I am ready." Nate looked at the frail mage and saw a determination in his eyes that had not been there before.

Aleesa let out a sigh. "Fine then. After supper. And Alistair and I will ride to Highever in the morning."

They all sat in silence. Nate tried not to think about Jowan's Joining. It seemed wrong that after suffering so much the mage might not survive. Instead, he looked at Anders.

Anders was sitting across from Zevran and was watching the elf intently. Anders must have felt Nate's gaze, as he suddenly looked at him. Meeting Nate's stare, Anders' eyes widened and then dropped quickly down to his plate. He looked flustered. Nate thought he saw Anders' cheeks turn pink.

Nate's stomach felt heavy and began to twist and turn as heat rose up his neck and face. The beast was awake and stalking within him.

He looked at Zevran and felt anger. The assassin had done nothing to him, but he wanted to rip him apart just to keep him away from Anders. The beast wanted his blood. He wanted to carry Anders up to his room and keep him there for himself.

"_Why not just lock him in a tower?_" he thought bitterly. "_What better way to prove your love than to recreate the captivity he has suffered most of his life? Or don't you want him to hate you?_"

Nate's stomach twisted again, but this time it was with revulsion at his own possessive nature. When had he become so controlling? He had always been protective of those he loved, he had never before been _possessive._ Or maybe he stomach was twisted with fear that his nature would scare off the very man who created such passion within him. It was a frightening thing: wanting to own and claim a man who wanted nothing more than freedom. He tried to clear his mind. He forced himself to eat some of the food on his plate, but it did nothing to satiate his hunger.

o o o

"From this moment on, you are a Grey Warden."

Nate watched Jowan take the cup and drink. As with the other recruits who had joined since Nate, Jowan's eyes went white and he collapsed.

"The mage will live," Varel announced before taking his leave. Aleesa, Alistair, and Nate stood over the unconscious body.

"So be it," Alistair muttered bitterly. "Let him prove his worth as one of us." With that, he turned and followed Varel from the room.

Aleesa looked eager to follow her husband. "Nate, can you -"

"I will see you at breakfast," Nate said simply. His commander gave him a grateful smile and was gone.

Nate gave a sigh and lifted the frail man from the floor. He carried Jowan to his new room and sat in wait. He wondered where Anders and Zevran had gone after supper. He wondered if they were together.

He grunted in irritation as he went to his own room to fetch something very distracting to read.

o o o

Anders had no interest in attending Jowan's Joining. He did not want Jowan to be a Warden, but he did not dislike him enough to hope he would die in the Joining. It was better to avoid the ceremony completely and simply accept the outcome.

He needed to relax. He was still filthy from his time on the road, so a bath was an obvious solution. He had stripped off his robes and was already scrubbing himself from a bucket of soapy water before he noticed a form in one of the tall soaking tubs against the far wall.

That was hardly unusual. Aleesa had extended use of the baths to any resident of the Keep. Soldiers, servants, and guards were often found using the baths at various hours of the day. It was not until Anders looked directly at the bather that his body froze in place.

Dark brown, lithe, muscular arms draped over the edge of the tub. Pale blond hair framed sharp, clever features. A smooth chest with pert nipples disappeared behind the high sides of the wooden ub. Zevran's eyes were closed.

Anders hoped the elf was asleep. He wrapped a towel around himself and took a couple of steps toward the door.

"You have forgotten to rinse, my dear mage." The alert, playful voice made it clear the assassin had not been sleeping. "The soap will bother your skin. If you need help with bathing, I would be most willing to oblige." The assassin shifted in the tub so that he was facing Anders directly, his golden eyes dancing with the same mirth that graced his full lips.

Anders swallowed hard as he felt his body react to the offer. He turned away so the elf would not see his physical response. Part of him wanted to bolt, and part of him wanted to climb into the soaking tub with the assassin.

He ignored both urges. He walked over to a bucket of clean water, prayed it was refreshingly cold, and dumped it over his head. The chilly water pulled the heat from his body and he gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you for the reminder," he said with his restored voice. "Good night." He made himself walk at a normal pace as he left the room of temptation and headed back to his own sanctuary. Once safely within his room, he locked the door, and collapsed onto his bed.

o o o

He walked back to the baths some time later. Surely Zevran would be gone now. He pushed the door open and was met by the sight of the assassin standing naked before him. Swirling tattoos worked their way down his torso and Anders' eyes could not resist following them. Soon his eyes rested on the elf's growing arousal.

"_Maker help me," _was the only thought he could manage before the space between them had suddenly closed and his body was pressed against the assassin's. Their lips met and he could taste the Antivan sun in the quick, urgent tongue he welcomed into his mouth. Nimble fingers were in his hair and around his waist and under his towel -

A knock sounded on the door.

"Anders?"

Anders opened his eyes and found himself lying on his bed in his towel. The room was dark but for the light from the fireplace.

"You awake?" Nate asked quietly through the door.

Anders collected his thoughts and was suddenly met with a rush of panic that Nate would somehow read his mind and see his dream. His fear pulled the blood from his erection, and he wrapped his towel more firmly around his waist.

"Just a moment," he called in what he hoped was a casual voice. He composed his features and went to the door.

Uncertainty showed on the bowman's face, and Anders' mind shifted from Zevran to Jowan.

"May I come in?"

Anders gave a nod and walked back into the room.

"How is Jowan?" Anders asked over his shoulder. He did not want to think about the mage, but bringing the topic up himself felt less annoying than waiting for it to be forced upon him.

"He survived, but he's unconscious." Nate was still standing by the door. "Sigrun is watching him. She said she'll come get me when he wakes." Nate's voice sounded unsure and Anders looked over at him.

The bowman watched the floor as he continued. "I would like to...I'd understand if you don't want me to...stay here tonight. Sigrun might knock on the door and wake you, or maybe you..."

"I doubt she'll wake me," Anders said with a laugh. "You usually have to drag me from bed if you want me awake before dawn."

Nate looked up at him and they both smiled at shared memories.

"So I can..."

"You might want to clean yourself up first," Anders teased as he took in the road dirt on Nate's armour.

Nate pushed a hand through his dirty hair. "Yes, good idea." He cocked an eyebrow. "Care to join me?"

Anders considered the offer, remembering the events of the evening and of his dream.

"No. I think I'll just wait here for you to come back and ravish me." He dropped his towel, climbed onto the bed, and stretched out suggestively.

Nate quickly stripped down to his breeches.

"Great," he chastised, "I hope the baths are empty tonight. Otherwise I'll have to rush my bath while hiding an erection."

With that, Nate was gone down the hall. Anders smiled smugly to himself, focusing his thoughts on his lover's return.

o o o o o o o o o


	22. Ch 22 A Man of Action

o o o o o o o o o

Anders awoke alone. This was not unusual, as Nate was almost always woke with the sun and liked to practice his bow before breakfast. The guards would swamp the grounds after breakfast for their own training, and Nate liked the calm quiet of having the yard to himself.

This morning, however, Anders wondered if his rogue was in the training yard or checking on Jowan. The possibility of the latter irked him and he found himself unable to enjoy his soft, warm bed.

"_Bloody Jowan,_" he cursed as he pulled himself from bed, "_able to ruin my mood from across the bloody Keep._"

He stumbled to the water basin to freshen up. The cold water helped him feel more awake but not more cheerful.

He went to his wardrobe and contemplated the collection of robes he had acquired since his Joining.

Aleesa loved buying mage robes apparently, but did not have a talent for keeping her mage companions around to wear them. With Velanna missing, Wynne in Tevinter with Justice, and the witch from her Blight days off Maker-knows-where, Anders had become the Commander's living dress-up doll. After years of standard-issue Circle robes, he did not mind being spoiled for choice.

He chose a mossy green robe with emerald and gold trim, because Nate had said it brought out his eyes.

He was finishing tying the robe in place when the door opened.

"Oh. You're up." Nate sounded disappointed.

Anders cracked a wide smile when he saw the bowman, his brow glistening from recent exertion, set down his longbow and quiver. _Training yard!_

"Disappointed you didn't get to wake me?" Anders cooed.

Nate gave a sideways smirk. "Exactly. I had some great ideas." He advanced with a glint in his eye, and Anders let himself be swept into the embrace of the bowman's strong arms.

Nate cupped his face with one hand and kissed him tenderly. Anders was grateful that the other arm was still supporting him as his head felt light.

"I guess if you're already dressed, we should go down to breakfast." Nate sounded resigned. "It might look bad if we miss our Commander's departing orders."

o o o

Halfway to the dining hall, Nate had the terrifying thought that Aleesa might leave Zevran at the Keep.

Nate had recruited a pickpocket in Amaranthine after he caught the girl trying to lift his coin purse. Aleesa had developed a fondness for the little elf and often trained her personally. She taught the girl, Kaya, all she had learned from Zevran, but repeatedly commented that it would be better to have Zevran work with Kaya directly.

"_No. She wouldn't._" Nate sought to reassure himself. "_He's in charge of their personal safety! He'll go with them to Highever._"

Nate reminded himself that he had been eager to meet the assassin and had hoped to spar with him. He was usually grateful to meet any new rogue and trade tricks and secrets. Of course, that had been before he saw how handsome Zevran was. Or, more importantly, before he saw how dramatically Anders responded to how handsome Zevran was.

He looked at Anders and saw a smirk on his mage's lips.

"What?" he asked more defensively than he had meant.

"You are lost in your head again," the mage teased. "Ignoring me like usual," he added with an exaggerated huff.

Anders kept his smile, but Nate wondered if the last bit had been said with some seriousness. He did not get a chance to probe before they reached the dining hall. Nate noticed with relief that Zevran had a full pack resting against his leg.

o o o

Anders had hoped that the mice would play while the cat was away, but Nate was not the type. Instead, he had become a replacement cat and buried himself under the duties and responsibilities Aleesa had left behind. Over the past few days, Anders had rarely seen Nate apart from meals and their nights together, which left him with a lot of free time.

There were new spells and potions to learn and master, and there was always an injured soldier or an ill farmer to appreciate a good healer. Staying busy was not the problem; it was avoiding the inevitable orders to train the newest Warden recruit.

It came a week after Aleesa, Alistair, and Zevran had left for Highever.

Anders was enjoying a leisurely breakfast with Nate, grateful the bowman was not rushing off to complete paperwork or inspect the final stages of the Keep's reconstruction. They were sharing a smile, when Nate's eyes flicked up over Anders' head.

"Good morning, Jowan," the bowman greeted kindly, "You are looking well."

"Thank you." Jowan's voice was almost back to what Anders remembered from before the Blight.

"Do you think you'd be up for some training?" Nate asked, his eyes shifting to Anders. Anders kept his eyes focused on his plate. Jowan must have nodded, because Nate said, "Great. Anders can take you to the practice yard and help you with your healing spells. Another healer is what we need most."

Anders knew better than to object. This was not a suggestion from his lover; this was an order from his acting-Commander. He kept his face neutral as he looked Nate in the eyes, and gave a nod.

"Get some breakfast and then meet me in the practice yard." Anders spoke to Jowan, but kept his eyes on Nate.

Anders heard Jowan's steps retreat toward the kitchen and Nate mouthed a little "thank you." The thanks was from his lover, and it was nice to see him peek out from under the mask of acting Commander.

That little acknowledgement might even make the practice session worthwhile, especially if he could find a way to avoid being alone with Jowan.

"_Can't practice healing without a patient, right? Guards are always getting injured and exhausted during training sessions..._"

Anders was a little nervous about joining the guards for their morning training session. He had basically avoided non-Wardens since Nate and he had started...whatever it was they were doing... being...

He still did not know how to act around the guards with whom he had always thoughtlessly flirted, but some awkwardness with the guards sounded better than any time alone with his fellow mage. Jowan had started giving Anders that tiny look of disapproval that Anders remembered from the Tower. He had always found Jowan whiny and annoying, but he sometimes had the feeling that Jowan thought far less of him.

"_Time to go find some guards who want to exhaust and injure each other...preferably ones I haven't __slept with_."

Anders kissed Nate on the cheek and went off to the practice yard.

o o o

Nate wished he could watch Anders train Jowan. He could pretend his interest was of an acting-Commander ensuring proper training for a new recruit, but he would know the truth. He loved watching Anders in action.

He would always remember the first time he had seen Anders as a healer.

Nate had only been a Warden a couple of days and had not felt comfortable. Even his body had felt wrong. Part of it had been the changes brought about by the Joining ritual, and part of it was that he had spent three days rotting in a prison cell. Nate rarely spent a single day without drawing his longbow, so the three days of forced sedentary living had been felt in his muscles for days after his release.

Standing on the range with some Vigil's Keep guards, Nate had cursed the hints of weaknesses and stiffness that lingered. Even so, he had been the best bowman on the hill and had easily planted arrow after arrow in the distant target.

The guards were quick in their respect and had welcomed him to train with them. That particular afternoon, a few older guards had been working with some young guards on their distance shots. The targets had been far away, down a long slope. To send an arrow such distance required strength, and to hit the distant mark required great skill. The young guards lacked both.

He had been in his element. The day was clear and bright. The guards were voicing respectful praise. Nate had been beginning to enjoy himself.

Then Anders had arrived with a couple of serving girls.

The three onlookers had perched on the wall behind the archers and began a merry banter. As time passed, their comments had become increasingly mocking and lewd. The women had targeted their comments at the older guards, clearly familiar with the men. Anders, however, had found a comment for everyone.

And he had found the most comments for Nate.

There had been comments about how well Nate held wood, about the shaft of his arrow, and about releasing and shooting and driving it in. Nate had tried his best to ignore the quips that fell relentlessly from the mage's lips.

Then the mage had begun discussing Nate's armour. The commentary had been directed to the women, but was deliberately loud enough for Nate to hear.

"I wonder if he's a true Fereldan," Anders had purred.

Nate knew the lore that _true_ Fereldans wore nothing under the skirts of their leathers. Fereldans from the northeast, like Vigil's Keep, were especially fierce in this bit of national pride. They felt that only sun-soaked Antivans, foppish Orlesian, and boys from the gentle grasslands of the Bannorn needed smallclothes to warm and coddle them during battle. A man reared among the cliffs and crags of northeast Ferelden would embrace the frigid air.

Nate had felt Anders' eyes on the tops of his legs. "He was in the Free Marches for some time," the mage had continued, "I wonder if he's kept our ways."

"_Our ways?"_ Nate had thought, "_Foolish mage doesn't even wear real armour. He runs around in a fancy dress waving a stick for a weapon."_

Perhaps it was the mage's words that had distracted him from seeing the child sooner. No. No one had seen his coming. The line of trees at the side of the field had obscured any view.

He had simply appeared, suddenly, much further down the slope, between the archers and their targets.

Nate still thanked the Maker it had not been his arrow. He had been positioning his next arrow when he saw the first flicker of movement. It took another second before he identified it.

The young guard who had loosed his arrow the moment before was little more than a child himself. He did not move from the instant he saw the child in the distance until Captain Garevel all but carried him to the barracks some time later.

Nate had watched in slow motion as the child moved across the field, oblivious to the arrow that bore down on him. Before they collided, a flash of gold and blue had passed Nate. Nate had recovered from his shock and followed Anders, but could not catch up. Nate was very fast, but Anders had flown like a man possessed.

The arrow had struck the child in his thigh. The young guard did not have the strength to reach the target, and the arrow had dropped low before striking the child. Unfortunately, as Nate and Anders both knew, a lot of blood flows through the thighs. The boy could have died of shock even before he bled to death.

The moment the arrow had hit, the mage had begun casting spells on the boy. By the time they had reached him, he was rigid and his thigh was encased in ice.

"You're going to be okay. Just relax and think happy thoughts." Anders had spoken softly, gently, to the boy before casting another spell that put the child in a deep sleep.

"You need to get the arrow out. I'll heal as you pull." Anders' voice had held none of the playful mockery Nate had come to know. This was a new Anders.

Nate had broken the arrowhead off and begun to slowly pull the arrow out of the child's leg.

"Slowly...Slow...I need to heal as you go."

Nate had been grateful the child was asleep. It had taken him a moment to realise that Anders had cast a paralysing spell on the boy to keep him from moving.

Nate had kept pulling, very slowly, and pale blue light had danced around Anders' fingers and the child's thigh. A glance at the mage's face had shown the intensity of concentration and exertion the spell required.

The broken end of the arrow had come through the wound and Nate had pulled away to give Anders more space. He had watched the wound slowly tighten and close through the blue light.

By this time, the older guards were standing with them.

Anders had cast another spell on the child's head and then one over his body.

"I've done what I can. He needs rest." The mage's voice had barely been a whisper.

Captain Garevel had arrived with a small cot and a canteen. He had poured some water carefully into the child's mouth and instructed his men to set the child gingerly on the cot. They had then taken the boy back to the Keep.

Nate had stayed with Anders. He had forced him to drink some water and, when he saw the mage's trembling hands, forced him to lie back in the grass.

Nate had watched him for a while. Anders' face had started tight and drained of colour. Then, slowly, his brow had relaxed and his cheeks and lips had regained their colour. Nate had caught himself appreciating the shape of the other man's lips. His eyes had wandered over straight nose and strong, stubbled jaw, even drifting down soft, tender neck, before he realised that Anders was watching him.

"If that boy lives, it is your doing," Nate had kept his voice calm.

"And if he dies?" Was the mage being serious, or was this more of his mocking humour?

"We have done what we could." It would be three more days before they would learn that it had been enough.

Anders had eyed him suspiciously for a moment, as if searching for something in his eyes. Seemingly satisfied with the results of his search, the mage had given him a lazy smile. Nate thought it was refreshing to see him smile so sweetly. He was quite dashing when he smiled like that.

"You were amazing." The words had left Nate's mouth without thought, and the bowman blushed at how they sounded. "You are a very good healer," he had corrected.

The mage had given a cheeky grin and cocked an eyebrow. "Amazing, huh?" He had wet his lips with a quick tongue. "I have other amazing talents I could show you."

"_And he's back,"_ Nate had thought with some bitterness. He had liked the healer he had seen work passionately and skilfully. He had been touched by that healer's sincere concern for the young boy's fate. But as quickly as he had arrived, the healer was gone, replaced by the mocking fool who cared about nothing. Nate had wondered when he would next see that other Anders.

It was many months before he learned to see that Anders behind the veil of puns, flirtation, and apathy.

o o o o o o o o o


	23. Ch 23  Playing Arl

**This chapter has been cut in half. The scene with Jowan and Anders (healing a boy and then talking) was removed and will show up in a later chapter. In terms of timing, it just felt out of place.**

**Kelcat has done her usual magic.**

o o o o o o o o

Nate stared at a pile of paperwork. Aleesa had only been gone a week, but he already felt overwhelmed.

Technically, Varel had already done all the work and Nate need only review and approve it, but he refused to do so without reading and fully understanding every page. It was not that he did not trust Varel, the man had done a fine job of running the arling in the months before Aleesa arrived, it was just that he wanted to prove he deserved the responsibilities entrusted to him.

Nate saw movement in the doorframe and looked up to see Anders smiling at him mischievously. He had barely seen Anders over the last week. He seemed to find time for everything and everyone else, but lolling around with his mage felt like a privilege he did not deserve. How could he spend time with his lover while there were reports to sign, recruits to train, construction to supervise... His head began throbbing again.

"Still buried under paper?" Anders purred. "Can't you get Varel to do it?" He advanced with a little swagger that made Nate certain of how Anders would fill their time were he suddenly to be free.

"Varel _did_ do it," Nate sighed, "but I still need to check it over."

"Pish posh! If it's done, it's done. It is _gorgeous_ outside. Take me on a walk! Take me for a swim! Just take me!" Anders plopped onto his lap and gave him an adorable little pout. Maybe Nate could allow himself the indulgence of spending some time with his lover without the excuse of enquiring about Jowan's training or a guard's recovery. He wrapped his arms around his mage and Anders smiled at him before softly kissing his neck.

Nate was feeling seriously tempted when they were interrupted by Varel's cough.

"Bann Masterson and Bann Tressel are here to see you, Ser," the Seneschal reported.

"Me?" Nate replied incredulously.

"Well, the Arlessa actually," Varel corrected, "but in her absence they wish to see her second-in-command. They have a dispute which they claim cannot wait for the Arlessa's return."

"I'll see them in the throne room, Varel. Tell them I will be with them shortly." Nate tried to sound calm, but was feeling a bit shaky. He had expected to review and sign off on paperwork. He had been prepared for that. He had not imagined he would have to face the local nobility, most of whom hated him for his name alone.

Anders made a pouting noise, and Nate remembered where they had been before Varel had interrupted. He was more grateful than ever than Zevran had gone with the king and queen and was not around to tempt his neglected lover.

Regretfully, he helped his mage off his lap.

"May I come?"

Nate blinked as he tried to make sense of the question. "What, to meet with the banns?"

"Yeah." Anders was smiling again. "I want to watch you play Arl."

"_Play_ Arl? Is this all just a game?"

"Oh fine. Be all stuffy and serious. I just want to see you sit in the big chair and make decrees."

"How about I decree that all mages keep their teasing mouths shut?"

"You're cruel," Anders teased. "Come on, let's not keep your subjects waiting."

"They are not _my_ subjects," Nate corrected as he got up and smoothed his breeches.

"Not yet," Anders rolled his eyes, "but they will be eventually."

Nate's confusion must have shown on his face, because Anders made a little noise of exasperation.

"Really, Nate? You don't know that she's eventually going to go back to Denerim and be with her husband? You haven't figured out that she is _obviously_ going to appoint you as her replacement?" Then, under his breath he added, "and to think you call _me_ daft."

"You don't know any of that for sure," Nate began, but Anders was already walking from the room. "Weisshaupt would have to approve her replacement! Or they might simply pick someone on their own. Someone who has been a Warden for more than a year!"

"Banns waiting," Anders called back dismissively as he continued down the hall to the throne room.

Nate gave up and followed his mage in silence.

o o o

Anders sat quietly in his chair against the side wall. Nate had made it clear that the mage was not to say a word as the acting-commander heard out the grievances of the two banns.

So far, the whole matter had been entertaining only because of the shade of red Bann Tressel turned when his temper got away from him. The matter at hand seemed to be pretty mundane: they were arguing over sheep.

From the minimal effort Anders had devoted to following the contradictory accounts each bann had given, there were sheep, and both men claimed to own them. Both banns agreed that Tressel had originally owned the sheep, but there was talk of a sale and something about terms of the agreement being breached... Anders willed himself not to yawn.

The matter was deemed urgent, because Bann Masterson planned to sell the animals at the annual Amaranthine faire in a couple of days. Anders only caught this part of the proceedings because he wondered if the faire would be a fun excuse to get Nate away from his desk.

He was certainly glad that the matter was not his to decide. He was struggling to stay awake, having completely given up on paying attention. Nate, however, sat erect on the throne, listening to every word with his whole body.

It was kind of sexy to see Nate looking so regal, which was the whole reason Anders had submitted himself to this boredom in the first place. Anders made a mental note to get Nate back on that throne when no one was around. He passed the next few minutes imagining himself kneeling in front of the acting-Arl and proving his fealty.

Then Nate began to talk and Anders listened to his strong, firm voice as he announced his decision. Anders had heard tone instead of words, but the beet red of Bann Tressel's face made it clear that Nate had sided with Masterson.

"Of course you would say that, you...you..._Howe_!" Tressel was almost purple in his outrage. "This is revenge for standing against your family during the Blight! Where is the Arlessa? I will not stand by the decision of Rendon's little brat!"

"You did not stand against _me_ during the Blight," Nate said with impressive self-control. "_I_ spent the Blight in the Free Marches, and _I_ had never heard your name before today."

"Bah! A convenient excuse! You may have been away, but you are still Rendon's boy. Your family ruined us. You're the whole reason I had to sell my bloody sheep in the first place!" Tressel was nearly hysterical at this point, and Nate was as tense as a coiled snake about to strike.

Anders found himself standing in front of Bann Tressel without realising he had left his chair.

"_Ruined_ you?" Anders asked menacingly. He made full use of his height and the discomfort most felt in the presence of an angry mage.

"Did Rendon Howe send his men to kill you? Did he slaughter your family in the night? Did you find your little nephew's bloody corpse on the floor of his own room? Did you watch as your father slowly died in front of you? Did your mother have to give her life to help ensure your escape?"

Bann Tressel's face slowly bled of colour as the tall mage loomed over him, painting images of suffering and horror. The bann was pale and trembling from something other than anger when he stuttered out a little "no."

Anders stood back and cocked his head. "Really? Odd." His tone was still like ice and his fingertips were actually frosted.

"Do you know who could answer "yes" to each of those questions?" Anders' tone dared the bann to respond, but the noble remained rigid with fear.

"Aleesa Cousland." Anders said simply. "And do you know what she did to Rendon Howe when she caught up with him?" He did not wait for reply before continuing with cruel relish in his voice. "She ran him through with steel in his own dungeons." Anders allowed himself a sick little grin at the thought of his friend enacting her revenge for all she had suffered. He let the bann process the image of his new Arlessa wielding her bloody blade.

"And do you know what she did when she next saw _Nathaniel_ Howe?" Anders stopped at this question, making it clear that he finally wanted an answer.

The bann shook his head slightly, his eyes still wide and his face still pale.

"She made him a Grey Warden and treated him with the respect he has _earned_ and _deserved_ because _he is not his father_." Anders' voice stayed soft and menacing as he hissed each word, but the bann squeezed his eyes shut as if the mage were screaming in his ear.

"Anders, that is enough." Nate's tone and face were completely neutral. He sat on the throne, watching Bann Tressel. Anders turned and walked back to his chair.

"Bann Tressel, if you feel there were injustices incurred on your family during the Blight, you may meet with the Arlessa upon her return to discuss possible compensation. She may not be able to offer you more than condolences and advice, but she will be happy to meet with you."

The bann seemed more stunned by Nate's neutral tone after all that had been said than he had been by Anders' interruption. Bann Masterson had stood quietly to the side merely watching since Nate had announced his decision in the dispute.

"Are we through, Bann Tressel?" Nate asked.

The bann gave a nervous little nod. "Yes, Ser. And...I'm sorry, Ser."

"Then I believe we are done here. Good-day gentlemen." He gave a little nod at both banns and showed no reaction as they turned and departed.

Nate stood from the throne and turned to a door that led back to his study.

"Anders? Will you join me?"

It was Anders' turn to taste fear.

Nate had made it very clear that he was to be silent during the proceeding, and he had interrupted completely. And his interruption had included a gruesome description of crimes committed by Nate's own father against their friend and commander. Not to mention the reminder that his father had died at the hands of that same friend and commander. Anders' cold anger at Bann Tressel turned to cold fear for his own fate.

Anders walked in silence as Nate led them back to the Warden-Commander's study. Once inside, Nate closed the door and locked it behind them.

And then Anders felt himself thrown back against a wall. At first he thought Nate was going to punish him physically for his transgressions, but then he felt the noble's mouth pressed against his. A solid chest pressed him hard against the wall as strong fingers tangled into his hair.

Anders was not one to let complete confusion ruin a good kiss, so he returned Nate's advances enthusiastically.

They parted only when they were both desperate for air. Nate rested his forehead against Anders' and looked into his eyes.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your mouth shut in there?"

"Yes. I know. I'm sorry! I just -"

Nate kissed him hard again and was smiling when he pulled away. Their brows were still touching. One of Nate's hands was next to Anders' head, while the other arm had wrapped around Anders' waist.

"Don't be. Don't be sorry. You have a smart mouth and you'll get us both in trouble, but that was..." Nate's brow furrowed in thought. "No one has ever defended me like that. No one has ever... Thank you."

"He was a git." Anders tried to make light of the matter, a little embarrassed by the intensity of Nate's gratitude. And, if he was honest with himself, a little unnerved by the intensity of his own feelings at hearing someone cast insults at Nate. He would expect himself to interject a snide comment or two, but he had surprised himself completely by towering over a member of the nobility, hissing threatening words in his face.

Anders was relieved when Nate started kissing him again, so he could stop thinking.

o o o o o o o o


	24. Ch 24 Penance

**Andraste's knickers! New content! Apologies for how long it has taken me to publish a new chapter. I am very grateful to anyone who is still reading. I am also very grateful to Kelcat for all of the Beta work she did while I was revising old chapters and for cleaning up this one. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>o o o o o o o o<p>

Nate was watching the Keep's guards train. He made it his business to know each guard personally and had a strong sense of their talents and weaknesses. This was part of how he had noticed the only recruit the Wardens had yet taken from the Keep's own guard.

The Blight was over, so Nate and Aleesa had agreed that numbers mattered far less than talent. They would rebuild the Wardens on a very strong foundation. Part of that process meant vigilantly searching for promising fighters.

"Well if it isn't wee Nate!" Nate's keen senses had alerted him that someone approached, but they did not prepare him for the warm, scratchy voice and thick Northern Fereldan accent that had been integral to his childhood and absent ever since.

"Nana?" He blinked at the sight of the woman who had cooked almost every meal of his childhood. He had not seen her in about a decade, but she looked the same. Her wiry grey hair was pulled back from her round, wrinkled, smiling face.

"Ach! Look at you, ma lad! All grown up an' a man." She pinched his cheek and he felt as if he were six years old again.

"Wha-what are you doing here?"

She ignored the question, lost in her own doting. "An' a Grey Warden, I hear. Ach, you make an ol' woman so proud."

"Not just _any_ Grey Warden." Anders was smiling as he approached. "He's second-in-command for all of Ferelden."

"Ah! There's ma boy!"

Nate watched in complete disbelief as his past and present happily embraced like old friends.

"You...you know each other?"

Nana smiled at the mage with warmth. "This dear boy came an' foun' me at ma li'l Tessie's farm."

She turned to Nate. "Ma Tessie took me in when ma knees were too old for standin' 'round a kitchen all day. Now I help with 'er baby. Anyway, this young man shows up one day tellin' me that wee Nate is a Grey Warden up at the Keep an' he misses me rabbit stew."

She went back to grinning at Anders. "He wanted me ta' teach 'im how I cook it. Cheeky boy was full ah charm an' wouldn't leave 'til I showed 'im. How'd it work for ya, dear? It come out right?"

Anders smiled, but Nate could see an awkwardness in the usually-easy grin.

"I made a batch once I could get the mageclover. I'm not sure if it was as good as yours."

"Well, what did wee Nate think of it?" When Anders did not respond, Nana cocked an eyebrow. "Ya did let wee Nate try it, right ma dear?"

Anders shifted his weight between his feet. Nate was baffled, feeling far behind in the whole conversation. Not sure where to start his questions, he chose something concrete.

"What's mageclover?"

"An herb." Anders was avoiding his eyes. "They call it mageclover because it only grows around Lake Calenhad. Few merchants carry it, so I picked some myself when we were there."

The strange look on Anders face reminded Nate of the first night on the road back from Lake Calenhad. Memories came back to Nate: Anders' questions about his cooking, his pout about Nate not noticing, and the childhood memories that had interrupted Nate's thoughts as he ate. Nate's face fell.

"You did make it," he said softly. "And I didn't notice. Oh Anders, I'm so -"

"Ya didn't notice?" Nana's look of reproach had Nate feeling six years old again. He wondered if she would try and lay him across her knee and spank him for his callousness.

"He's been busy." Anders slid between them facing Nana. "The Commander relies on him heavily and he's had a lot on his mind." Anders had swept an arm around Nana's shoulder and was leading her toward the keep. "Now, why don't you take a peek into your old kitchen and make sure it's up to your standards?"

Nate watched as Nana rested a palm against Anders' cheek. "You're a good lad, ma dear. Make 'im take care o' you, or I'll give 'im a lashin'." She shot a scolding look back at Nate. "You're not too old, ma boy! Now make your Nana proud and mind ya manners!" With that she scuttled into the keep.

Anders walked back to Nate and gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."

"You...You went and found Nana just so you could learn how to make her rabbit stew?" Anders gave a little nod. "And then you went gathering herbs by hand?"

"Well I was collecting herbs for the Mages' Collective anyway..."

"And you cooked it all up and waited for any type of thanks or recognition...and I didn't even notice." Nate felt the rush of emotion pounding on the edges of his mind. Unbidden came childhood memories of favours and gifts for his father that had gone unnoticed. His thought and hard work overlooked.

"It's not a big deal. Please don't be angry..." Anders was looking apologetic again, and the first emotion that flooded Nate's mind was disgust with himself.

"Anders." The mage fell silent. "You did something incredibly thoughtful and..."

"_Romantic!_" he thought, but was too scared to verbalise it.

"_..._kind. And I fucked it all up by being a self-absorbed, insensitive, heartless..."

Anders hushed him. "It's okay. You had a lot on your mind."

"It's not okay!" Nate spat. Seeing Anders flinch, he tried to rein in his anger. But without the anger there was only sadness and insecurity.

"I- I don't deserve you." There; he had said it. Now maybe Anders would admit it, too.

Instead, Anders gave a hearty laugh. "Yes, that's it. The noble-born, future Warden-Commander isn't good enough for the peasant-born apostate."

"I'm serious! Being of noble blood or being good at military tactics doesn't mean I deserve anything other than loneliness. Sure, it starts with just being self-absorbed and neglecting the people I'm supposed to be caring for, but eventually I'll be slaughtering families and setting up torture cham-"

"Nate!" Anders' eyes were burning. "You are _not_ your father."

Nate took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Anders stared at him for many moments before continuing.

"Yes, I am amazing and thoughtful and kind," Anders was giving him a grin, although his eyes were still intense, "and yes, you failed to see it because you have been neglecting me for your new mage."

"That's not it-" Nate protested.

"But!" Anders continued, "You beating yourself up doesn't get you any closer to making it up to me."

The mage folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to one side. His flirty, mischievous grin spread across his face.

"Now, I think you're going to have to do a lot of grovelling tonight. So let's get started."

Nate opened his mouth to reply, but Anders pressed a finger to his lips.

"Uh, uh, uh," he teased, "I have other things in mind for that mouth."

Anders turned heel and started to walk into the keep. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at the still-flustered Nate.

"Follow," came the order in a tone Nate had never heard from his mage. His body obeyed without thought.

o o o

Anders walked back to his room. He could not hear the silent bowman behind him, but he could feel his presence. Once he was through the door, he promptly removed his own clothing. He heard the door close and lock, as he walked to the bed and stretched out on it.

Nate was still standing by the door.

"You're a little far away for what I had in mind," Anders drawled.

The noble looked uncertain, clearly still occupied with his thoughts.

"I'll make this easy for you," Anders propped himself up on his elbows. "Turn off that busy little brain of yours and do what I say. Trust me, we'll both feel a lot better."

He gave a wicked grin when the other man did not object. "Now, come here." He sat on the edge of the bed and pointed to the floor at his feet. Nate obeyed. Anders felt the thrill of power. He often led their intimate encounters, but it always felt as if Nate had offered him the lead. This was the first time he had simply taken it for himself.

Anders pulled Nate down into a heated kiss. He felt the bowman's strong hands dig into his hips and knew that desire was pushing unwanted thoughts and unneeded feelings from his lover's mind.

He broke the kiss and moved further up the bed, holding the gaze of sharp grey eyes. When his whole body was supported by the bed, he gestured for Nate to crawl up over him. He enjoyed the feral thrill of watching the powerful build of his lover stalk over him. When Nate's shoulders were in reach, he held out a hand to stop him. The top of Nate's head was over his navel.

"That's high enough," he grinned.

Nate looked down. His hot breath played over Anders' growing erection. The noble seemed to take the hint and settled onto his elbows to attend to his mage.

He kissed a trail from hipbone to inner thigh and Anders felt himself harden completely. Then calloused fingers cupped his sac as a wet tongue lashed against his length. Anders let his head fall back against the bed.

Warmth enveloped him completely as fingertips slid behind his sac and pressed into the soft flesh there. Anders fought the urge to thrust his hips, as Nate sucked slowly and thoroughly. A skilful tongue was stroking the underside of his cock and then swirling around the head. Anders let a low moan escape him, which Nate echoed. The sound and vibrations undid him, and Anders exploded into his lover's mouth. Nate did not release him until the last shudder ran through his body.

"How else may I serve you?" Nate's voice was low and husky, sending a little shiver down Anders' spine. It was well worth being neglected now and then if this was the reward.

"I am glad you are so eager to repent." Anders propped himself on his elbows again so that his lover could see his lecherous grin.

"I have a lot to make up for." There was the slightest hint of seriousness in Nate's tone that Anders sought to quickly squash.

"What did I say about that mouth of yours? It's for my purposes tonight. The same goes for that over-active mind of yours. If you have to think, think of better uses for your tongue."

Nate gave a chuckle and his breath tickled Anders' stomach. "As you wish, Ser."

Anders dropped his head back smiling. "Much better."

"So..." Nate was kissing his way up his torso. "How would you like me?"

Every time they had been together, he had been inside Nate. Nate seemed terrified of triggering a memory of his abuse by the Templars. However, the Templars were not the only men who had ever been inside him. He was well aware of the potential for extreme pleasure. Also, he was tired of being treated as though he might shatter. He had survived plenty before Nate was there to protect him.

"Inside me." It was a command and Nate seemed to recognise it as such; he hesitated certainly, but did not object.

He took his time fetching the oil and running it over his fingers. Perhaps he was allowing Anders time to reconsider, but Anders was determined.

Nate gently massaged his entrance with one finger. Finally, he began to press inside. The slow pace was agonizing.

"Today, Howe! I want to be fucked _today_!"

Nate only raised an eyebrow at him. Anders was not sure if he had ever called his lover by his surname, but it felt like the equivalent of all the times Nate had simply called him "Mage."

"Two fingers," he ordered.

Nate complied and Anders shifted his hips to help Nate reach the sensitive area within him. His lover crooked his fingers and Anders groaned with pleasure. He had missed this.

"Enough! Enough with fingers," he growled. Then he gasped with the loss of the very digits he had ordered removed. Nate pushed his legs up to his chest and he felt a thicker girth at his entrance. He smiled in anticipation.

"Hard!"

Nate drove himself inside in one strong movement. Anders nearly came undone with the sudden intensity of his lover seated within him, filling him completely.

Anders was almost laughing with the pleasure. "Now move."

His lover complied. His thrusts were long and hard and perfectly aimed. Anders felt himself trembling as Nate drove him to the edge. And then he was thrown over the edge into a sea of bright light in the darkness.

He was only beginning to return to his senses when he felt his lover shudder and release within him. They stayed frozen in time for a few moments. Then he felt Nate gently separate them.

Something wet and soft wiped along his stomach and overly-sensitive groin.

"Would you like me to bathe you," Nate offered, his breath still shaky from his arousal, exertion and release.

Anders pulled Nate down on top of him and buried his face in his lover's neck. They peppered each other's neck and shoulders with gentle kisses before their eyes met and Anders gave a lazy grin.

"We'll save the bath for the next time you fuck up."

Nate gave a chuckle and stretched out next to him. He pulled the blankets over them before enveloping his mage in a protective embrace.

"Such faith you have in me," he murmured with amusement.

"After that act of penance," Anders purred, "I can only hope."

Wrapped in each other's warmth, the Fade easily claimed them both.

o o o o o o o o o


End file.
